


First on the Scene

by TWDObsessive



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bisexuality, Coming Out, Destiny, Developing Friendships, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fate, Feels, First Dates, First Kiss, First Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Rick Grimes, Pining, Soulmates, Unrequited Crush, i don't know- maybe ghost?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-03-08
Packaged: 2018-09-26 09:09:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 27,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9878864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TWDObsessive/pseuds/TWDObsessive
Summary: Rick is first on the scene when a call comes in about an overdose in the Terminus Trailer park where Merle Dixon is found dead.  The officer instantly forms a bond with the deceased's grieving brother, Daryl.  He can relate to Daryl since Rick just lost his ‘brother’, Shane.  Both men are left without a constant that they’d always had in their lives and they develop a friendship as they continue to grieve their losses and to be thankful for what they are finding in their new worlds.





	1. Meet

**Author's Note:**

> Obviously I’ll be starting out with a giant thank you to Stylepoints who is beta'ing this bad boy for me! Have I mentioned that she’s awesome? If I haven't that's a grave mistake on my part!
> 
> This fic has the same kind of feel and tone as one I wrote over a year ago called Blooms Among the Dead. If you liked that one, you might enjoy this one. And conversely, if you read this one and like it, you might want to check out Blooms if you haven’t read it before.
> 
> Hope everyone enjoys the ride.

It was a shithole. Wasn’t surprised to get a call on an overdose in that neighborhood. Sure as shit wasn’t the first. Hell, wasn’t even the first this month. I’d only been back on the job a few days since the mandatory time off after Shane was killed in the line of duty. It was bittersweet to be back. I needed to work. Needed to get my mind off losing my best friend, but Shane was my life. He was my childhood, he was my high school, he was my partner on the force and it was hard to live without him by my side. So in one sense working was just making his loss more glaring, but at least it got me moving, gave my mind something else to focus on, though Shane was always in the shadows of my thoughts. 

Michonne, my new partner, and I were the first on the scene but we heard the ambulance sirens in the distance, not too far behind us. Before we could even knock, a guy about my age with too-long, choppy dark hair and red-rimmed eyes opened the door. I’m a good judge of character. That’s part of my job. These weren’t eyes bloodshot from drinking or drugs. They were from tears and sadness.

“He’s in the back bedroom,” the man said with a gruff voice. We followed him in and he sat down on the couch in the living room, elbows on his knees and hands in his hair. A TV was on with the volume turned down and an old episode of MASH was playing. I pulled out my pad and pen as Michonne went back to check the scene. 

“What’s your name?”

“Dixon. Daryl. Merle’s my brother.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I said. I’ve seen a lot of grief in this line of work but the complete sense of hurt and emptiness that surrounded this man was truly heartbreaking. Watery eyes on a strong, rugged man like this always seemed to hit extra hard.

He glared up at me with narrowed eyes. “No you ain’t. One less drug addict you gotta worry ‘bout. One less dealer. One less asshole in general.”

“Daryl, I _am_ truly sorry. I don’t care if he was an asshole or a war hero, he was your brother.”

His eyes softened a bit and he gave me a slight nod as if he decided not to take his anger out on me after all.

“Did you both live here?”

He nodded, eyes down on the floor. 

“Were you… here when it happen? You hear anything or did you come home after?”

“After. Shouted for him to get his lazy ass up to help me haul in the fire wood I just chopped up from down the road and he didn’t answer but his bike was here. Went back to his room and he… had that tube thingy tied around his arm and a needle there. Checked his pulse like I seen in movies. Tried to do CPR but I ain’t trained for that or nothin’. Just saw it in movies a couple times,” he said as he pointed to the TV. “Called 911 then.”

The ambulance crew entered with a stretcher as Daryl was talking and I pointed them back down the hall.

“You did everything right, Daryl. Did everything you could. You got any family I can call for you so you don’t have to be alone?”

“I’m thirty-four, man. Don’t need no goddamn babysitter.”

“I didn’t mean that. I just mean… it’s hard right after and sometimes it’s better to have someone with yah. You got anyone I can-”

“He was it,” Daryl yelled as he motioned towards the back of the house. “He’s all I got. But he cared more ‘bout chasin’ his highs... so now... “ his voice tapered off and he finished his sentence in a near whisper. “I ain't got no one.” I stood by him as the paramedics wheeled out the body. 

“Clear cut case. Just an OD,” Michonne confirmed, her gloved hands carrying an evidence bag with the heroin and the needle in it. “You got everything you need?” she asked me.

“Michonne, a little more compassion, man. His brother just died,” I whispered. Shane was always brusk like that too but Michonne really lacked empathy when it came to these kinds of calls. Shane always said I had too much.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect, sir,” she said to Daryl. He looked up at her with that same angry scowl that I started assuming he wore quite often. 

“No you ain’t. And do I look like a fuckin’ sir to you? I’m in a Goddamn piece of shit trailer living with a junkie.”

“I apologize for my poor choice of words Mr. Dixon,” Michonne said and she walked out the door.

I looked back to Daryl wanting to find better words to comfort him but I remembered from Shane dying that there simply weren’t any words. There was nothing anyone could say that would make it better, make the loss less catastrophic, make the hole in your stomach stop aching.

“I lost a brother too a few weeks back. Best friend since Kindergarten so he was like a brother. I understand what you’re gonna be going through.” I handed him my card. “If you need anything. Just to talk or need advice on how to handle the funeral arrangements, I’ve just been through it all so… y’know maybe I can help.”

He took the card and looked at it. “Rick Grimes. Why you bein’ so nice to me?”

“You seem like a good guy that could use a friend,” I answered. I didn’t make it a habit of offering to hang out with people I met on the job. But there was just something about his eyes that made me hurt for him. Something about the way he was partly defensive but partly in desperate need of the simple kindness of a stranger. “And to be honest, I could use a friend myself.” Couldn’t go out with the guys on the force anymore. Not without Shane there. Wasn’t right. 

“I like MASH, too,” I said for no particular reason as I was staring at the TV trying to figure out what else to say before I left. 

“You didn’t even ask me if I was usin’, too. Or if he got the drugs from me in the first place. Why ain’t you takin’ me downtown?”

I shrugged. “I can recognize a user. You’re not one. And Daryl, I told you, you didn’t do anything wrong.” And those were the words I walked out on.


	2. Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Stylepoints because beta'ing for me is a huge job. Do you want to know how many times I accidentally type you're instead of your? It's embarrassing!
> 
> Also- Apologies for not mentioning the posting schedule yesterday. You'll be pleased to know that this will be a daily posting for the next two weeks!

I honestly didn’t expect him to call. On first sight he didn’t seem like the kind of guy that wanted, needed or accepted help. But those eyes of his, they begged for compassion and understanding, needing it like the grass needed the sun and the rain. I didn’t recognize the number when my cell rang and these days you rarely get a call that isn’t programmed into your phone. Hell, I wasn’t even sure how to answer it.

“Hello? This is Rick,” I said. The line was quiet for a moment and I knew it had to be him before I heard his voice. He had a way of taking time to really think before he spoke. I noticed that already about him in the short time we talked.

“Yeah. I don’t know if you remember me but my brother OD’d over in the Terminus Trailer Park the other day and-”

“Daryl!” I said to make sure he knew I remembered him and was pleased to get the call. The sound of him more nervous than angry made me want to…. pet him for some reason, like a frightened dog or a child that just woke from a nightmare. He certainly wasn’t the kind of guy who needed taking care of on the surface, but something about him made me want to be gentle with him. It wasn’t completely unusual. I’d known since my early teens that I was bi and I’ve dated both men and women. So to notice a man like this wasn’t particularly unique. But my draw to him, the immediacy of it and the intensity- that was something new.

“Well, they called about what to do with… with the body. And I don't know no places like that. Thought maybe you could just, like, tell me where you went.”

“I can do you one better, Daryl. I just got off work and haven't eaten yet. How about I pick you up and I can take you over there myself. Might be a little upsetting so y’know might be nice for you not to have to drive. Then maybe...you know, if you want, I can buy you dinner.”

“What's in it for you?” he asked suspiciously. “You cops get like extra pay for charity cases?”

I laughed. “No. You’re _not_ a charity case. Like I mentioned, I just lost my best friend not long ago and I could use someone to go out to dinner with.”

“Ain't ya got a wife?”

“No. Never married. Spent most of my time with Shane. He was like a brother, was my partner on the force, my best friend, don’t even remember life before meeting him. Don't know what to do with my time anymore.”

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Merle and I used to go huntin’ together a lot a weekends whenever he could manage to stay clean for a couple months. I’ll miss that. Used to sit on the porch and drink beers just talkin’ bout all kinds a nothin’. It's quiet now. That son of a bitch talked more than I ever realized.”

I found myself smiling at his sudden openness with me. “I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. That okay?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Rick. I… I ain't used to… nice.”

“Well, you'll have to get used to it, cause I'm nice to a fault.”

When I pulled up to his house he was already sitting on the porch waiting for me, likely thinking about being there with Merle like he’d described on phone. He came down and got in the car muttering a thanks as he buckled up.

I handed him the card from the funeral home. “You can call the hospital back and tell them you’re using the Hilltop Funeral Home on Barrington Road.”

“Thanks,” he said again as he pulled out his cell and dialed. 

When we parked I asked him if he wanted me to come in or just wait for him but I could tell by his wordless shrug that he’d rather have the company… just didn’t want to have to ask for it.

“It’s kinda hot out, actually,” I said as I opened my door. “I think I’ll come in for the A.C. That okay?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, clearly attempting to act more put out by it than he was. As we walked in I gave Karen a nod. She was a friend of mine from way back and I’d called her right after I left the scene the other day to let her know I might be having a friend come in that I was hoping she could give priority to. 

She walked straight over to Daryl with an extended hand. “You must be Daryl. I’m Karen. So sorry for your loss.”

Daryl grunted in response. I had the feeling that was his default answer to almost anything. It was cute though, not a grouchy kind of grunt but an “I don’t know how to properly respond to that so this is all you’re getting” grunt.

“Can I get either of you a cup of tea or coffee?” she asked, with well-trained sympathy in her tone.

“Ain’t here to sip tea and gab. Just need to take care of this shit with my brother,” Daryl answered. There wasn’t any venom in it, just simple fact.

Karen nodded a hello to me before the three of us sat down in the parlor, Karen in one of the tall-back burgundy chairs and Daryl and I on the couch.

“So, I just got word that your brother is on his way here from the hospital and we can start making some of the major decisions now if you’d like,” she said as she pulled out the books with pictures of coffins and urns. I remember seeing them myself not long ago since Shane’s family was overseas when he died. I’d been standing in for them during the arrangements.

“What do we gotta decide?” Daryl asked as he scratched at that slightly overgrown mop of light brown hair.

“Well, to start off with, do you want an open casket or closed? Or did you want him cremated-”

“I’ll just take the ashes,” Daryl answered with confidence.

Karen nodded in understanding as she put one of the books away and opened the one with images of Urns. “This marble one here is our most popul-”

“How much is it?” Daryl asked, clearly itching to wrap this up fast and get out of there. It was such a formal setting and I had the impression he was feeling out of place in his torn jeans and Minor Threat T-shirt.

“Well, this one right here is two-fifty,” she said as she flipped a page.

“Two hundred and fifty DOLLARS?!” he asked, exasperated, “Ain’t you just got like some tupperware or somethin’?”

I stifled a giggle but he looked over to me. “What did you do for Shane?”

“Open casket. His mother insisted,” I answered with a soft voice fit for a library… or well… a funeral home. “I didn’t have to pay for it, though.”

He looked back at Karen. “What’s the cheapest one you got? I’m assuming, since you ain’t answerin’ my tupperware question, that it must not be an option.”

“No problem, Daryl. I understand. We can get you the basic model for $59.95.”

“Fine. I’ll take that one,” he said, standing to leave.

“Mr. Dixon, sir?” she asked stopping him from heading out the door. “Did you want to select a cemetery plot? Basic plots for urn interment start at $525 and you could choose from-”

“I have to buy a hole, too!?” he shouted.

“You don’t have to, Daryl. Karen’s just giving you all the options,” I said, to help ease the stress.

“You are welcome to just take the urn home, sir,” she said, her eyes soft and understanding.

Daryl nodded. “Yeah. Just gimme the ashes. Sorry I ain’t got the money to do more for him. You’re nice enough, Karen, but he was an asshole. So’s I can’t justify goin’ broke on him now, y’know?”

“I understand, Daryl. Every loss is unique and different and it will hurt in different ways. I’ll take care of all these arrangements for you and I’ll call you when the ashes are ready. Can I assume you don’t want to arrange for any kind of memorial service?” 

“He don’t need no memorial service. I’m the only one’s gonna miss him,” Daryl sighed.


	3. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for Stylepoints!

“You still okay to go for dinner?” I asked once we were back in the car and buckled up.

“I guess,” he answered then turned to me with confusion in his brows. “Why you want to, anyway?”

“Told ya. Got an opening for a friend. Seems like you do, too, even though you keep calling him an asshole.”

I took Daryl’s non response as a yes, and drove us to a small dinner that I thought he might feel comfortable in. But Daryl’s question was like a loop in my head. Why _was_ I doing this? Was I attracted to him? _Yes_. Did I have to come on to everyone I was attracted to? _Of course not_. Shane wasn’t gay or bi and I thought _he_ was attractive but I never attempted to make a move. That guy Paul from the ambulance crew I keep running into. He’s _very_ good looking and recently divorced but I haven’t once asked him if he wanted to grab a beer much less tried to flirt with him. This wasn’t taking advantage of Daryl’s grief in any way. We were going through the same thing. We just needed the company of someone who understands. By the time I’d convinced myself that my motives were pure, we were being seated by a young, perky blonde and left with thick diner-style menus.

“Gonna take me an hour to read through this damn thing,” Daryl grumbled.

“Turkey special’s always good,” I suggested. 

He slapped his menu shut at that. “Sounds good,” he said softly as he rested his head in his hands. I let him have a quiet moment because he was definitely the kind of guy who needed that on occasion and I could almost feel his need for it pouring off of him. 

When the waitress came we ordered two turkey specials and two root beers. When she put the drinks down she smiled at Daryl. “I know you,” she said with her soft southern twang.

“Yah do?” he asked, looking at her through narrow suspicious eyes.

“I’m Beth. Beth Greene. You’re Daryl, right? I remember you,” she said with a giant, honest smile. 

Daryl looked at me shyly, clearly wishing I wasn’t here for whatever this relationship was. _Did_ he sell drugs for a while? Had he been sexually active with someone far too young? Why was he looking so sheepish, I wondered.

Daryl finally nodded. “Yeah, I remember you. What’s it been? Ten years? You look a lot better than yah did,” he said with a bit of a snort.

As I looked between them confused, she finally turned that bright smile towards me. “Daryl’s my hero. I was eight years old and got lost in the woods after chasin’ some dumb butterfly off my daddy’s farm and into the woods. Was lost out there six days. Some of the locals volunteered to look for me after Daddy and the cops couldn’t find nothin’ of me. I was scared. Wet from the rain. Starving. Covered in mud and dirt. And finally the rain stopped and the sun came out and Daryl Dixon, my angel, came around a ridge callin’ my name.”

“She just puts a nice flare to the story, Rick. Just found a kid is all. Don’t make me no hero.”

I adored the humility of this man. So many traits I was drawn to already piling up and I started to wonder if this was going to be healthy for me to pursue just a friendship.

“Well, you’re _my_ hero Daryl Dixon. And your meal is on me,” she said as she flipped around to check on another table.

“Wow,” I said. “Didn’t know I was having dinner with a celebrity.” He blushed four shades of red at that. “Were you in the paper?”

“Nah. Don’t like attention. Told Beth my name while I was walking her back home so she wouldn’t be scared of a stranger. But I left ‘fore any of the reporters could talk to me. She promised me she wouldn’t tell anyone my name. Told her I didn’t want no attention. Couldn’t afford it really. Merle usin’ and all. Just didn’t want things to get messy.”

“Well, volunteering to find a lost child is an admirable thing. I could see that in you the day we met. That’s why I didn’t ask if you were using, too. I can see the good in you with just a glance.”

He shifted in his seat clearly uncomfortable with compliments or praise. “How were you able to track her?” I asked to shift the conversation more to facts and details instead of accolades.

“I hunt. Merle and I used to a lot before he got wrapped up in drugs. So’s I know a bit about looking for stuff in the woods. Usually deer or squirrel. But an eight-year-old kid leaves even easier tracks to follow.”

“I always wanted to learn to hunt. Asked Shane about it a couple times. His old man hunted. Thought we could go out when we were eighteen but Shane was never interested.”

Beth came back with two plates overflowing with food. She was still beaming. “I just called Daddy to tell him I seen yah. He said to tell you thanks again and to please stop over anytime for all the fresh eggs you want.”

Daryl nodded and smiled. “Thanks, kid. Tell him as soon as I learn to cook, I will.”

Daryl dug into his food after Beth walked away like it would disappear if he didn’t eat it fast enough. “I can teach yah sometime if yah want,” he muttered with his mouth full.

“What?”

“To hunt. If yah want. I’m used to goin’ alone anymore. But it was always better when Merle was there. Someone to be excited with if yah get somethin’. Someone to help drag the damn thing back to the truck.”

I smiled. This was my green light for friendship. I could do it. I could just be a friend. He could be what I lost in Shane and I could be what he lost in Merle. “I’d like that,” I answered.

“You’re probably a hero everyday, bein’ a cop and all,” he said using the back of his hand instead of a napkin to wipe gravy from his lips.

“Nah. Just a cop. You know the saying ‘where’s a cop when you need one’? Seems to be true. I always end up getting places too late. Crime’s already committed. Innocent person already dead.” I shrugged. “Shane was the one with the real ambition to be a cop. I was always just kinda...following him through life I guess. He was the big brother I never had and I kinda always just wanted to _be_ him.”

“So that's why you don't know what to do with yourself anymore? Don't got no one to be a shadow to?” He didn’t say it in a demeaning or negative way. Just an observation and he was right. I was always aimless, always following Shane like he had all the answers to life. Even thought about following him after he died but the PD-ordered psychiatrist got me straightened out before I did anything stupid.

“I guess.” I shrugged and gazed out the window as took a bite full of mashed potatoes. “Ever been to that bowling alley?” I asked absentmindedly.

“Yeah. Played on a league with Merle for a while.”

“I've never bowled,” I responded with an unintentional pout.

“You’ve never bowled?” He asked, exasperated, making a few other customers turn towards us.

“Wasn't Shane’s kinda thi-”

“Couldn't yah take a girlfriend or somethin’? I mean if you wanted to try it so bad.

That was an opening. Could have mentioned that I was always afraid girlfriends _or boyfriends_ would think it was dorky. Just let him know me. If we were going to be friends, it would eventually come out and I was always afraid of making new acquaintances and knowing when was the right time to mention it. I didn’t want to allow myself to grow close to coworkers or new people, only to find out that they’re homophobes, and to be honest, even with all the tolerant, kind, honest vibes I’m getting off Daryl, by looks- he’d probably deck me if he found out I’d been hiding something like that. 

Instead of using this moment to jokingly mention my sexuality, I instead just shrugged and grunted like he had a tendency to do. “I’m kinda shy sometimes about stuff like that,” I said. And it was true enough. Most of the women and one of the men I dated I met through Shane. Went to a gay club a few times with this girl Tara from work. She was lesbian and looking. I was just always the shy, awkward friend. But shy worked a few times and I got some dates out of it. One relationship lasted almost six months. That was my longest. I just feel like they lose interest in me and I lose interest in them and before I know it, it’s over. 

Despite Beth’s obvious hero worship, it wasn’t enough to get Daryl’s friend a free meal too. She only paid for his and dropped a check for mine on my side of the table when she cleared away some dishes. When I dropped Daryl off, he took a moment before he climbed out of my car. I liked the way he did that… took time to get his words right before he opened his mouth. Complete opposite of Shane, actually.

“If you want I can show you how to bowl Saturday afternoon. Shouldn’t be too crowded then.” He didn’t look at me when he said it, just waited with his hand on the door for my answer.

“That would be great, Daryl. Thanks for takin’ pity on me,” I laughed.

“Ain’t takin’ pity. Just… I ain’t bowled in a while neither and… it’s getting lonely at home.”

I caught myself before I blurted out “It’s a date, then!” and instead just answered. “I’ll see you Saturday.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the pep talks and encouraging comments. Love you all!


	4. Bowling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stylepoints and thanks to evryone who's been reading and enjoying!

The bowling alley was like a time machine. It looked like the seventies began and ended in the very room we were standing in. I could feel Daryl watching me observe our surroundings. Lime green carpet, an actual jukebox with 45’s in it, and a candy machine that still sold Charleston Chews.

“It's kinda a dyin’ sport,” he explained before I could even find a way to ask the question. 

“I'm guessing it was big in the seventies,” I answered with a grin as I pointed to the vintage candy options.

“I wouldn't buy that. Don't think it's on purpose keeping the retro feel. Pretty certain that thing hasn't been filled with candy since ‘74.”

“Duly noted. So how do we get this thing started?” I asked rubbing my hands together in excitement. Granted it did look as lame in there as Shane had insisted it would. But it kinda looked like fun. People were laughing. Joan Jett was playing on the Juke box…. and Daryl was smiling. He doesn't smile often. I’d already picked up on that and he had a beautiful smile, so earning one of them was a reward in itself. Not that I was going to try to make any moves on the guy. We both just needed a friend, and that my new friend had this subtle beauty that even he wasn’t aware of was just my good fortune. Something nice to admire when we were together.

Daryl led the way to a counter and got us a lane and a pair of moldy, burnt orange and lime green bowling shoes that I’d have to wear since I didn’t have my own pair like he did. Once we settled into the lane, he showed me how to pick a house ball by weight and the size of the finger holes. The only one that really seemed to fit was a pink and orange tie-dye looking eight pounder. After a quick lesson on how the computer tracks the scores, Daryl went first. 

It didn’t take long for me to decide I loved bowling. Watching Daryl as he went up for each frame was an opportunity to admire the man- his physique, his strength, his focus. And his ass. It did start weighing on me though, not just the guilt of whether or not I was unintentionally taking advantage of this poor guy who was still in the throes of grieving his brother, but the more I saw Daryl, the more I talked with him, the more uncertain I became that I wouldn’t accidently fall in love with a straight man. 

I’d had idle crushes on straight guys before but it never hurt me knowing nothing would come of it. Hell, I’d had crushes on women that were solid tens and WAY out of my league and it was no big deal knowing I wouldn’t get any of that either. But after such a short time I was already starting to worry about the pain of pining for someone who didn’t return my feelings. 

I got a gutter ball for my first throw. Then another. By the fifth frame I’d started at least getting a couple pins each time and Daryl had stopped laughing quite as hard at me. Hell, to get that laugh I’d throw gutter balls all night, but I didn’t want to look too obvious. It wasn’t until the seventh frame that he finally stepped in. After another gutterball, Daryl came up onto the lane with me. He playfully pushed me aside and took the ball and pretended to throw it. 

“See how I don’t turn my wrist? Gotta keep your wrist straight,” he explained. 

I took the ball back and he stood off the alley watching me. I got six pins with that throw, my highest frame yet.

I went back to my chair grinning at Daryl. “Coulda told me that in the first frame, asshole,” I chided.

Daryl shrugged. “Wanted to win, man.” 

We both laughed and I realized how much I haven’t laughed in the weeks since Shane passed. Some of the men and women on the force tried to invite me out for drinks and things but I felt like I had to be fake around them. I didn’t really have a self. Shane was so much of me that I barely knew what was left after he died. I often wondered if I really did harbor feelings for him that were so deep seated that even _I_ didn’t realize it. But it simply wasn’t that. He was my best friend since kindergarten, me the shy one and him the strong and confident one. We played with matchbox cars together. We slept over at each other’s houses. We studied for history tests together. We failed the same algebra class together. We double-dated together. Watched movies together. Went to the academy together. Got hired by the King’s County Sheriff's department together. I didn’t have any friends that weren’t Shane’s friends, too. If it weren’t for him I don’t know what I’d have done. He always gave me direction and encouragement in his own way. Hell, I didn’t know how to exist without him.

With Daryl, it was a fresh start. An opportunity to be myself, to figure out who I even was. I hated wings. But I went to wing night at Joe’s Tavern every damn Tuesday because _Shane_ liked wing night at Joe’s Tavern. I liked bowling. I never would have known that if Daryl hadn’t been willing to take me. 

After the game that Daryl won by 40 pins, we each grabbed a slice of pizza and a beer at the food counter.

“I didn’t even know bowling alley’s _had_ pizza,” I said as I bit into the over-sized slice.

Daryl just chuckled, kinda staring into space a bit. I’d been selfish. This was an exciting new experience for me, but for Daryl, it was probably a stark reminder of what he lost just days ago.

“Really feel his absence being here, don’t yah?” I asked quietly. His eyes seemed to focus back on the present and he looked over at me and shrugged.

“Have that problem a lot with Shane. Everywhere we used to go feels wrong without him.” I was quiet a moment before I continued. “Had this problem, too,” I said motioning to myself. “People didn’t know if they should ask about it, talk about it, ignore it completely or what. And people who haven’t lost someone close just don’t know what to do.”

“Yeah. Guys at the garage sent flowers to my house. Fuckin’ flowers! What the hell am I gonna do with flowers?” he said, shaking his head.

A loud crash of pins burst nearby and someone yelled “Strike!” as I took a sip of my beer. “So what’dya do with them.”

“Garbage disposal.”

I tried not to laugh at the wincing face he was making, clearly ready for me to point out the other options he had. “You know they were flowers. Could have just thrown them out the back door into the yard. Let ‘em make a run for it,” I laughed.

“Wasn’t thinkin’ straight, I guess,” he said as he took a bite of the tough crust. “Maybe I just wanted to see something disintegrated into a thousand pieces. Y’know? Like how it feels good to break glass when you’re pissed.”

I sat back in my chair. “I was not aware that it made people feel better to break glass,” I said.

“Really, dude? You never threw a beer bottle during a shouting match and felt better after hearing the shatter?”

“I don’t really shout much, I guess. Unless I’m saying ‘Stop. Freeze.’ and the person doesn’t stop and freeze. And in those cases, I usually don’t have a beer on me.

He chuckled at my lame attempt at humor. “Merle and I had a lot of shouting matches. Lot of broken bottles defused the anger.” He paused for a bit as he licked the pizza grease off his fingers. “Miss him. Loved him. But Christ did he piss me off sometimes.”

I nodded in understanding. “I get that,” I agreed as the woman at the counter brought over two more beers.

“Still pissed at him for od’ing on me. Him and his fucking heroin,” Daryl grumbled. “Leaving me again and this time forever.”

“Left you before?” I asked. The air suddenly grew suffocatingly heavy between us and I instantly regretted the question. Daryl looked briefly uncomfortable but he answered.

“Merle was ten years older than me. He practically raised me. He was the one made sure I had lunch money for school each day. Made sure I wasn’t getting picked on at the playground. Made sure I always did my homework even though he never did his own. The one who...just sometimes he’d end up in Juvi or out on an extended bender with friends and leave me home with…” He let the unfinished sentence linger in the air for a bit. “I don’t normally talk about shit like that with people,” he finally finished.

“Yeah, that was nosy and inconsiderate. I’m sorry,” I said as I berated myself internally for losing what I may have been gaining.

He grunted in response and took out a twenty. “You helped me out with that funeral shit. I got this.”

“You get a call yet about the ashes?” I asked since he brought it up.

“Yeah,” he said as I followed him out the door. “He’s all bottled up. Ready to picked up whenever I want to get him.”

“Want some company to get him?”

“Nah. Ain’t ready to pick him up yet. Karen said I could come whenever I’s ready.”

Of course I knew that. I told Karen to give him time and from what I’ve gotten to know about Daryl, he wasn’t in a hurry to close that chapter.


	5. Ballgame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wild applause to Stylepoints!

We hadn’t made plans when we parted ways after bowling. But since Daryl called me that first time, I had his cell number conveniently stored in my phone. The next week my Brave’s tickets came in the mail, two of them I’d bought for Shane and I. We always went to one game a year. One year he’d get them, the next year I would. It was my year… but it was only me.

I pulled out my cell and texted Daryl, the first person I thought of when I stared at the now extra ticket. _Got two tickets to the Braves game Friday night and I guess Shane isn’t going to be able to make it this year. You ever been to a game?_

About ten minutes later I got a response. _No, never been. Merle always said it’s too expensive._

_Not expensive now. Got a free ticket. You wanna come?_

After another few long, slow minutes I got a response.

_Sure. Thanks, man. Always wanted to see a game live._

When I picked Daryl up it felt eerily like a date. We had tickets to an event. I was picking him up at a very specific time… and I had butterflies in my stomach when I saw him come down the porch stairs in hole-less jeans and a button up shirt, like he wanted to look his best. 

Frankly he looked just as good in his ripped khaki’s with the sleeves torn off an old shirt. But the idea that he was trying to look nice nearly took my breath away.

“Hey, thanks for this,” he said as he buckled up. 

“Thank you. Would’ve hated to have to look at an empty seat all night.” It was then that I realized I was really gonna be feeling Shane’s absence. This was tradition, it was him and me. Always just him and me. Not surrounded by all the other folks that seemed to constantly surround Shane. It was where we had our best talks each year. Where we talked more real than we usually did day to day. The smell of peanuts and popcorn and the fresh cut grass of the ballfield, it was going to be like hitting me over the head with a hammer of memories.

“Really missing him today,” I said solemnly. “This was an annual thing. Me and him. We always made it to one game a season.”

“‘M sorry,” Daryl said. His voice was low and overflowing with empathy. His “sorry” always sounded so much more sincere and honest than anyone else’s.

“Not your fault. He’d actually be impressed with me making a friend on my own instead of poaching his,” I laughed.

“You don’t seem like someone that can’t make no friends. I don’t get that.” 

I shrugged in response. “You know, I think I just was always okay being a bit of a loner. Shane loved the attention of groups of friends. And I usually always prefered just one or two people at a time. Guess I just never made an effort. I was happy enough with Shane, whoever else he wanted to hang out with and anyone I might have been dating at the time.”

I cringed at the mention of dating that slipped out without me realizing it was coming and my heart raced. Is now the time? Should I mention that I happen to be bisexual to save myself the awkwardness down the road? I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to lose the one friend I had so instead I quickly changed the subject.

“Hey, haven’t heard you mention about picking up the ashes. Thought for sure you’d have wanted to get that over with by now.” I felt dishonest and ashamed for squirreling out of my uncomfortable conversation and creating an uncomfortable one for him. Plus, I knew he hadn’t picked them up. I’d been checking in with Karen.

“I’m just not ready. I’ll pick ‘m up next week or somethin’,” he responded, keeping his eyes out the window as we drove towards downtown Atlanta.

We were quiet for a few miles before Daryl spoke up again. “Can’t shake the guilt.”

I nodded and patted his knee, probably not a great move but he didn’t seem to mind it. “None of us can control anyone but ourselves, Daryl. You could have tried to talk sense to him til you were blue in the face and it sounds like you did. But Merle was going to do what Merle was going to do. Not your fault he od’d.”

After another shared silence he finally responded. “Not just about that but like… he knew how much was too much. Was he just… sick of me? Sick of my nagging him, sick of me being so dependent on him? He had to practically raise me, he got stuck with me as a kid and-”

“Are you saying you’re wondering if he did it on purpose?” I asked exasperated.

“Yeah,” he answered softly.

“Daryl, shit happens,” I said, taking my eyes off the road briefly to look over to him. We get OD’s all the time. Folks that get hooked on that shit? They are always looking for ‘just a little bit more’. It’s not on you, Daryl. He didn’t do it on purpose.”

“You didn’t even know him, Rick. How can you sound so certain?”

“Because _you_ knew him, Daryl. And you told me about him practically raising you. A kid his age taking care of a baby brother like that? That’s not something normal kids do for one another. If you were a burden to him he wouldn’t have given you lunch money and looked out for you so much.”

“He got the lunch money from stealing. Or selling weed.”

“He’s not on trial, Daryl. Don’t matter how he got it. He put himself at risk for _you_ because he cared about you. I know I can’t make you stop thinking he did this on purpose, just like you couldn’t make him stop using, but I hope you’ll try to remember the good stuff, the things that made him a good brother.”

It killed me for Daryl to have to think that way. Shane’s death didn’t leave that kind of question hanging in the air but I could imagine if it did that I’d probably have the same constant worry, that it must have been my fault. I turned on the radio to try to lift the atmosphere a bit as we crept into the downtown Atlanta traffic and the rest of the conversation was about bands we liked, concerts we’d been to or wanted to see and how annoying used car commercials were.

It felt like Shane was walking next to me like a ghost as we headed out to our seats, hands full of hot roasted peanuts, hot dogs and beer. I almost regretted coming. Started to wonder if I should have just thrown the tickets away instead, but then I saw Daryl’s face when we walked out into the stadium and he saw the field and the crowd for the first time. 

“Ain’t never even been to a high school ball game,” he said with a smile. “I been watching the Brave’s play since I was little. Just on TV, though. Merle liked to watch and I always wanted to be near him when I was little so I got into it, too. Wish he coulda seen this. Looks so different than on TV. Feels so exciting already.” 

After we got in our seats he kept looking everywhere like he was in complete awe of his surroundings. “Oh my god! Look! Is that Nick Markakis!?” he shouted as some of the players came out of the dugout. 

Suddenly I felt like it was the right decision to come to the game and to bring Daryl. It would be good for both of us. Shane would have wanted that. Wouldn’t have wanted me wallowing alone. Hell, if he were alive he’d have been able to read my affection for Daryl all over my face by now and would have been nagging at me to ask him out. In fact, if there was an alternate reality where me, Shane and Daryl would have gone out for beers or something, Shane would have figured out a creative way to find out if Daryl was gay. 

I ate my peanuts and watched the game, and chatted stats back and forth with Daryl and seeing him enjoy the game so much made the enormous memory of Shane easier to bear. But I did still remember the last game we were at together. I had just broken up with this guy Paul, and Shane was giving me the standard post-break-up pep talk. 

_He was too short anyway. Don’t you want someone you’re taller than? Or at least closer to your own height? Or is that a thing not important in bi’s?”_

_I laughed at him. He was always trying to understand me like that. “I don’t know. Just… wish I could click with someone like you’ve been clicking with Andrea.”_

_“Oh, we’re clicking alright. She is amazing in the bedroom.”_

_I rolled my eyes. “I’m not one of your straight friends, you don’t have to just talk about her tits and ass around me. I know you’re really falling for her. She’s got a lot of spunk. I think you like that,” I winked._

_“She does. She’s fiery and fearless and just… just fun.” He was quiet in thought for a moment then changed the subject back to me. “So you never seem to click with anyone. That’s the problem? What are you looking for? Maybe you need to get a better sense of that? I mean… I know you. You want to settle down and have a monogamous kinda life but whose ideal? I mean Jesus, is it even a woman or a man?” he asked, always not quite getting it._

_I shrugged as I sipped my beer. “Just need someone that understands me and that I understand and I need… like a spark. I feel like I’ll know it when I see it.”_

_“Hey, why ain’t you never had the hots for me? Ain’t I good looking enough for you?”_

_“You’re a pig, Shane, you know that and I know that. And luckily for Andrea, she hasn’t figured that out yet. And if you’re that into her, may I recommend not cheating on this one?” I said._

_“I’ll consider it,” he said with that wide smile of his. Then after a few more strikes on the field he absently said “you deserve better than me anyway, I guess.”_

Andrea had broken up with him a few months later and for the same reason things usually ended. Shane was a good friend, but he was a terrible boyfriend and he cheated on Andrea just like I’d worried about. I remember watching the Braves lose to the Orioles that day and aimlessly wondering what I really did want. I wanted someone who was more like me when it came to groups and attention. Someone who was happy with just a few close friends and quiet nights together. I wanted someone with the rugged body of a man that works with his hands for a living but still has a bit of a soft stomach because he isn’t full of himself like Shane was. I wanted someone that had a heart more like a woman’s heart. Who can empathize and understand and communicate with soft touches. I prefered blue eyes over brown. And I liked just enough hair that I could tangle my fingers into when we were intimate. 

I looked over to Daryl. _Shit._

We both left the stadium in good spirits after a 4-3 win. I had managed throughout the final three innings to convince myself I didn’t have feelings for Daryl. It was just companionship I needed. And we had that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a bit of a teaser:  
> Tomorrow's chapter title - "Cat Burglary"


	6. Cat Burglary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter dedicated to Norman's love of cats. 
> 
> And as always- Many hugs to my beta, Stylepoints!

Over the course of the month, Daryl and I had been to lunch a few times, bowled again and went to that Brave’s game. And I spent more nights than not over at his house with take-out chinese or pizza. One month and we were becoming fast friends yet I still hadn't found a subtle way to mention my sexuality. There was a genuine sincerity to the way our friendship was evolving and if he was going to become a lifelong friend it was going to have to come up. I was starting to wonder if the crush I had on him was making me try to cram myself back in the closet for my own protection.

As I sat in my recliner flipping through channels and thinking about asking Daryl if he wanted to go night fishing like we’d talked about a few times, my phone dinged. We had taken to texting each other about the most obscure things at the most random times and I found myself smiling before I even picked up the phone to read it.

 _I need a cat._

_You need a cat? Is that some kind of cryptic message like the eagle has landed?_

_“No it’s code for I need a cat. Empty and quiet here without Merle. You find any stray one’s caught up in trees lately at work?_

_That’s the fire department, asshole._ I could imagine him laughing. He had a soft way of picking on me that was so damn affectionate. I don’t understand how he did it, came off so macho and growly but his picking was gentle and almost loving. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

 _Come with me to the animal shelter. Gotta make sure Cat likes you since you are over at my house all the time._ He texted as if I was a burden. I knew better but he occasionally liked to play it up that I was getting on his nerves. Yet here he was, texting me to help him pick out a damn cat.

 _You love having me over. I’m hilarious,_ I typed.

He texted back with an emoji of a cat and the word CAT in all caps. I rolled my eyes and laughed. _I’m on my way._

I was surprised when I arrived because Daryl was sitting on the steps waiting for me, bouncing a knee and looking nervous. “Hey,” I said as I got out of my car. 

“Hey. I’m sorry, man,” he said as he stood.

“For what?” I honestly had no idea what he was talking about. 

“I was kinda bossy and demanding about Cat.”

I cocked my head and just looked at him quietly. I knew what he was alluding to. We’ve talked a lot about Merle and Shane and I’d mentioned numerous times how Shane was the one that pretty much ran the friendship and I just followed whether I liked it or not. Daryl didn’t want to be that to me. He didn’t want to fill old shoes, he wanted to walk beside me in his own. He didn’t want to be my Shane. He wanted to be my Daryl, a new friendship with new dynamics. The fact that he recognized all that over a stupid text about a cat was not going to help with my mission to not fall in love with him.

“Nah, man. You know I like hanging out. Don’t matter what we’re doing. Cat gonna have a name or are you just gonna keep calling it Cat?” I asked as Daryl gave me a terse nod that I read as thanks for accepting his apology. He walked towards his truck and I climbed into the passenger seat.

By the time we got to the King’s County shelter he’d explained about the zen art of naming animals. According to him, he’d have to meet said cat first and it would name itself. 

We walked into the shelter and were met by a young volunteer at the front desk. “Hi,” she said with a wide smile. My name’s Enid. How can I help you?”

“Need a cat. You got any cats?” Daryl asked gruffly.

Her eyes lit up. “Do we got cats?! Hell yeah, we got cats! And you’re here just in time to save one, too. Couple are scheduled to be put down this weekend,” her smile turned to a frown at the last sentence. I watched as Daryl’s face grimaced.

“Put down? What’s that mean? Does that mean what I think it means?” he asked turning to me.

“Yeah, we have too many and nowhere to put them all,” Enid explained. “If you take one, you’ll be a hero!” she said. It’s just a $50 donation!”

We followed her into a room filled top to bottom with cages of cats and kittens of all sizes and colors. Hell, I was starting to think I should get one. But I knew I couldn’t. No pets allowed in the condo I live in. 

“I’ll leave you guys to look around. Give me a shout if you want me to get one out for you to play with a bit,” she stuck her fingers through a few of the cages on her way out to pet some of the more docile, sedentary cats.

“This is a lot of fucking cats, man,” I said, surprised myself at how many were homeless.

“Christ, I want to pull an Elliot from ET and free them all like he did with those frogs. That against the law, officer?”

I nodded. “Yeah, ‘fraid so, buddy.”

He walked up to each of the cages and baby-talked to the cats inside, closely observing them and then looking at me with his conclusion. Like “This one’s a prima donna, ain’t lookin’ for that shit.” or “This one is boring, no personality” or “Too young” or “Too old.” I wasn’t sure how much more baby-talking to kittens I could take before I just blurted out “Hey, did I mention I’m bisexual? Just wanted you to know!”

“What exactly are you looking for?” I finally asked instead.

“Well, y’know… like a badass.” 

I burst out laughing for some reason and he punched me in the shoulder. “Shut up, man. I’m lonely!”

“Whatever. I had dinner at your place four times last week. You saying I’m boring?” I chided.

He moved to the next cage. “Eventually you’re gonna find a girlfriend or some shit and I ain’t like Shane… ain’t like yah known me forever or work with me everyday or owe me anything. When you get a girl and fade away I need backup,” he said in as much of a sarcastic way as he could muster, but the worry was a real weight on his shoulders, I could tell.

“Daryl,” I said, waiting for him to turn away from the feisty black cat he was playing with to look at me. He finally did and I could tell he had all those Dixon defenses up.

“Do you think you're the only one enjoying this friendship? This goes both ways. I love hanging out with you. We have lots in common and just enough not in common to always have new things to do. I’m not going anywhere.”

He shrugged like it didn’t matter either way even though he knew I knew it did. 

“Cat can just be a stand in for when I’m at work. You don’t need to replace me with a feline,” I reinforced.

He stuck his fingers back in the cage with the young black cat and it swatted at his fingers and then hugged one tight in his paws and bit at Daryl’s thumb. The index card on the cage read _Male, neutered, declawed, feisty, best if only pet, not good with kids. Name: Noir_

“Now _this_ is a cat. Get me that girl, will yah?”

Enid came back and got the cat out and showed us to a room where we could play with him. I secretly wondered if she thought Daryl and I were together. Did we look like a couple? Did Daryl even wonder briefly if it was kinda… well, gay, for lack of a better word... for two dudes to go pick out a cat together?

Noir ran circles around one of Daryl’s legs, Daryl laughing the whole time with that smile that lights up his face. Every time he leaned down to pet him, the cat rolled over on his back and grabbed at his hand with all four paws. 

“I love him! Let’s go,” Daryl said firmly.

“Ummm… you don’t think he seems like a bit of an asshole?”

“I think he’s just pissed off that he’s got that pretentious name,” Daryl insisted. “This little guy is an asskicker. Not a cat that would drink snooty tea and wear a monocle and smoke a long cigarette while critiquing art. Noir- what kinda fucking name is that?” He looked back at the cat as it was walking towards me. “Hey, cat. Your name is Asskicker now.” 

Asskicker looked back to Daryl and then up at me and he purred around my boot. “See how smart he is!? He knows you’re a pussy so he’s being gentle with you and he knows I want a cat that knows like karate and shit so he’s showing off those sweet asskicking skills to me.”

I reached down and petted Asskicker on the head and he rubbed up against my hand for more. “Well, he is kinda cute, I guess,” I admitted.

Five minutes later we stood outside catless. 

“How was I supposed to know I needed to bring some damn mortgage shit to prove I own the shithole? This is bullshit!!” Daryl fumed. “They better not put him down by accident.”

“You already paid for him, the cage is clearly marked. Only gonna take us forty minutes to get home and get back,” I said trying to soothe Daryl's sudden maternal side.

“You know, you're right. That's a great idea!”

“What!? I didn't have an ide-”

“There was a screen door in the cat room that opens to the back. We go in, unlock the cage. It's a shitty lock, I could do it with just two fingers and the desire.”

“Daryl!l” I laughed. “You can't steal a cat!”

“Ain't stealin’ _a_ cat. Just gettin’ _my_ cat that I paid for.”

He was so damn adorable about this fucking cat that I knew I wouldn't be able to deny him. Shane would have NEVER turned a blind eye to something this potentially illegal. But Daryl had a point. He did pay for it. 

“Fine,” I answered as if I were conceding instead of being equally excited about attempting an actual catnapping with Daryl. “Give me the keys. I’ll keep the getaway car running. But you ARE coming back and giving them a copy of that paperwork for their files.”

He gave me a nod and disappeared around the corner of the building. As I waited in his truck I couldn’t stop smiling. This man was so fun and quirky and sweet. How did he end up in a position where his only friend was a junkie brother? How doesn’t _he_ have any girlfriends?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to grief tomorrow, I'm afraid!


	7. Stories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stylepoints, this fic is actually readable! :-D (Beta'ing is some hard damn work, folks!)

When I walked into Daryl’s trailer with the Chinese order I’d just picked up I was welcomed by a cat jumping onto my shoulder from behind me which left the bags of Chinese dropping to the floor. 

“Does he fly?!” I asked after I got Asskicker off my shoulder and earlobe and set him down on the floor. Daryl was laughing as he picked up the bags of food.

He pointed behind the door as I closed it. “Bought him a cat tower. Told him his job was to keep burglars out.”

“Well, judging by that practice round, I bet he’ll be able to chew a perps earlobe clean off in a week.”

“Imma teach him to go for the jugular. He’s gonna be lethal, don’t you worry,” Daryl said as Asskicker purred around my feet, trying to look cute while I really suspected he was trying to trip me.

We sat down on the couch in front of the ballgame as if it had been routine for us for years instead of months. 

“One-nothing, by the way. You missed two innings,” he said, updating me as a commercial ended and the game came back on. We ate, drank a few beers and watched with Asskicker between us pawing at Daryl’s fingers then flipping around to paw at mine. The game ended one to four, not the Braves, and like was becoming routine, we grabbed one last beer that we would have out on the porch before I left. 

The sun was almost set and the usual old trucks were driving back and forth. The usual kids out riding bicycles much later in the evening than I would have been allowed to at their ages. I watched as one of them, about maybe ten, tried pushing one of the other kids and ended up falling off his own bike instead. I spit out some of my beer from the laugh. Probably not very officer-like but the kid wasn’t hurt, they were wearing helmets, I just couldn’t stop thinking about Shane.

“This one time,” I laughed. “Me and Shane were riding bikes through the neighborhood we both lived in. Shane, like you probably have figured out by now, was kind of a show off and definitely much braver than me. Even then. It was a big neighborhood that was still building new houses and there was this giant dirt pile that was sorta shaped like a wave.”

“I think I know where this is goin’,” Daryl laughed, his eyes totally focused with interest on my obscure story.

I nodded and shook my head still trying to stop laughing. 

“He said he was gonna do a trick like Evil Knievel.”

“That dude’s bad ass!” Daryl added.

“Yeah, but eight-year-old Shane wasn’t. So he started his bike up on the street aimed down at that damn dirt pile and peddled harder than I ever seen him. Soon as that front tire went from asphalt to dirt it just stopped in it’s tracks and flipped. Shane ended up on his ass.”

“Was scared for a few minutes, actually,” I continued. “He wasn’t crying but he cracked the _shit_ out of his nose. Blood absolutely pouring out of it. And he’s trying to tell me he’s fine and he’s gonna try again. I mean, I don’t know how he wasn’t in tears. Hurt himself so bad his nose never was the same!”

Daryl was giggling with me at the memory. “He actually sounds a lot like Merle.”

“Next day he was supposed to come with me and my folks to Disney World. Didn’t have any real siblings, either of us. So when one of our parents went on vacation we usually both went. And my folks were absolutely mortified, walking around with one of ‘their’ kids having a fat lip and a broken nose. They were telling everyone who gave him a second look ‘He fell off his bike! He fell off his bike!’” 

“Shane, he just smiled. Thought he looked like Rocky. Didn’t even understand that my folks were paranoid everyone thought they beat him.”

Daryl took a long slow sip of his beer as we watched the kids get called into their houses for the night.

“They didn’t have to worry. Kids whose parents do that shit don’t also take ‘em to Disney World. And the kids… they ain’t proud of their war wounds like Shane was. They’d try hiding it.”

I could tell Daryl was on the cusp of unloading some of his own memories and they were clearly darker than the one I just shared. I didn’t want to push him, but I didn’t want to change the subject either so I just tried to casually keep it going.

“Can’t hide his face,” I said with a forced laugh.

“You can. Just wear a hoodie and keep your head down, ‘s all.”

At that point I just gave him the silence that surrounded us. Gave him his time. And after a few quiet moment he started talking.

“Merle. He was braver than me, too, like Shane was with you. I usually just took it when my Pa dished it out. Too afraid of how worse it’d get if I tried to stop him. Merle, though, he’d fight back. He’d punch my old man when _I_ was the one takin’ a beatin’. Then he’d end up taking some of the punches and whips that shoulda been mine-”

“Daryl, none of them shoulda been yours,” I said, sitting up in my chair and giving him my undivided attention. “Neither one of you deserved that. And Merle had ten years on you. He was stronger, I’m sure. He could afford the risk of hitting back. You were a kid. You couldn’t.”

He shrugged and took a sip of his beer. 

“I’m sorry that happened to you, man. That fucking sucks,” I said.

He shrugged again.

“Know what it sounds like, though?” I asked.

“What?”

“Sounds like Merle wasn’t as much of an asshole as you keep makin’ him out to be. You always seem like you don’t want to allow yourself to really miss him, to be sad.”

“He wasn’t no angel.”

“Neither was Shane. You know it’s okay to be sad, right?” I asked.

He shrugged, finished his beer, went back in the house and returned with two more. It made me feel like I hadn’t stepped over any lines and that my company was a help, maybe even a need.

“We get called to a lot of situations like that. Cops ever come?”

“Nah. No one cared enough about Dixons to pay us any attention really. Teacher’s always assumed I was gonna be another Merle. Ten years between us and none of them forgot Merle,” he laughed.

“Me and Michonne had a call the other day. The mother had od’d last week. We’d responded to that one too. But this time we were called in by the neighbors. The old man was shouting at us that he had a gun and to get off his property. Kid’s in there crying and screaming.”

“What did you do?”

“What Shane would have done. Slipped in through the back door while Michonne was talking to keep his attention. Broke his wrist in one quick move and the gun just fell out of his hands. Classic Shane. Except Shane would have head-butted him afterwards for some extra justice. Sometimes I think he’d do that to try to get his nose back in place,” I laughed. 

“You’re brave,” Daryl said. “I’d shit myself before going into a house like that on purpose.”

“You’re brave, too,” I pointed out as he already started shaking his head in denial. “You are! Found a little girl in the woods. You were alone out there. No partner or nothing like I have on the force. Coulda got lost yourself, been attacked by a bear…”

“I had my crossbow.”

“Well, I had my gun. And wait...you use a crossbow? That’s fucking awesome as shit!”

“Okay fine, we’re both badasses. Just like Asskicker in there. Right, Asskicker?” he said looking back through the screen door at the cat with his declawed paws pushing on the screen trying to get closer to us.

“Well, me and Asskicker don’t know how to use a crossbow so you win in the badass department,” I insisted and Asskicker meowed in agreement. And I was going to have a hell of a time getting the image of Daryl with a crossbow out of my head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow's Chapter Title:
> 
> Ashes.


	8. Ashes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting super early because I'll be off the grid all day and most of the evening. 
> 
> Thanks to Stylepoints, as always!

It was a hectic day. Michonne and I had been called to three different OD’s and all were fatal. It kept me thinking about Daryl all day. By the time we were pulling back into the police department to end our shift I finally had the chance to check my cell. Daryl had left me a message a few hours earlier.

 _Finally picked up the ashes. You at all interested in getting drunk tonight?_ Somehow my heart broke and my lips turned into a grin at the same time.

“Whatcha grinning at, Grimes? Got yourself a hot date?” Michonne asked.

“No,” I frowned. “Just a friend that had a bad day and needs some company.”

“You’re smiling at their bad day. Is this someone you are eager to share your company with?”

“You’re nosy, Michonne,” I answered with a smile. “And no. It’s just a friend. Bisexuals can have just plain old friends, y’know. Doesn’t mean we want to fuck every human on the planet.”

Michonne shrugged as she headed to the car pool to turn in the keys to the cruiser. “It’s that Dixon guy, isn’t it? You can’t deny he’s got shoulders for miles and gorgeous blue eyes.”

“You barely looked at him Michonne. How could you know that?”

“Well, for one, I’m not blind. And secondly, I don’t need to stand there staring at him like a lovesick puppy to see what he looks like.”

“I wasn’t staring at him like a love sick puppy!” I insisted.

“Yeah, yah were,” she whispered as I walked towards the men’s locker room to change. 

“Was not,” I murmured.

“Rick and Dixon sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-”

“Shut up, Michonne,” I shouted with a smile, as I disappeared behind the door.

Before I even opened my locker, I responded. _I can be there in twenty._

I changed quickly and stopped at the liquor store to pick up a bottle of whiskey. When I pulled up to his house he was sitting on one of the porch chairs with two beers, he handed me one and I handed him the whisky.

“Didn’t have to, Rick. Thanks.” His tone was not the lighthearted one I was used to, instead it was grim and blank.

I sat down and looked around the porch to see if Merle was joining us. 

“He’s still in the truck. Didn’t really know what to do with it. I ain’t really got a... like... curio cabinet for shit like that. Not sure I want to look at it sitting on the kitchen fucking table every day.”

“Could bury it in the back yard,” I suggested after a long slow slug of beer. 

Daryl kept his aimless gaze out at the street in front of his house. “He hated this shithole. Still fucking pissed at him for over-dosing on me but don’t want to punish him by burying his useless ass in a shitty trailer park.”

We were quiet for a while. I knew how to read when he wanted to talk and when he needed a moment of silence for himself. 

After we watched a few rusted up trucks drive by and a couple kids kicking a mostly deflated soccer ball across the yard, Daryl went into the house and came back with two short glasses and opened the whiskey. I took my last guzzle of beer and took the glass when he handed it to me.

“You believe in any of that shit about heaven? Or like ghosts or fate or destiny or reincarnation or whatever the fuck? Or you think he’s just ashes now?” Daryl asked and the question threw me. Daryl had always seemed so removed from thoughts like that. Just another reminder that there was so much more to him than meets the eye. And I was really enjoying getting to know him better even during circumstances like these.

I took a strong sip of the whisky and a deep breath before I answered. “I don’t know. Don’t think anyone knows. But Merle… he was here, on this earth and he helped raise you the best he could,” I took another sip. “He may not have been perfect, but think about how different things would have been without him. He’s in your heart. I know that for sure. Just like Shane’s in mine. They’re both in our memories. Heaven, hell, reincarnation? I don’t know, Daryl. But I know this- we ain’t just ashes. We all _mean_ something. _THEY_ meant something. And they’re still here with us,” I said with hand over my heart. 

“So ghosts, then is what you’re saying?” Daryl asked with a sarcastic smirk. 

“Dude, tell me you got more out of that than ghosts.”

“Nah, I hear yah. I know what you mean. That jar in the truck ain’t him anyway so don’t know why I’m making such a big deal about it being here. Merle’s been dead nearly three months now.”

“It’s a moment. It’s like a final goodbye. With Shane I had the actual funeral and that was closure. Well, as much closure as possible. And this is yours.”

“Feels weird having his ashes here.”

“You just need to figure out what you want to do with them.”

“That’s a good idea, Rick,” he said as took the last sip from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What? I didn’t have an idea.”

“You said you wanted to try night fishing, right?” he asked, like a comment I made weeks ago clarified this mystery idea I had. 

“Yeah?”

“Well, about a half mile through these woods is a lake where Merle and I’d go fishin’ sometimes. Peaceful there. Not far but seems a world a way. Never seen anyone else there in all the times me and Merle been. Let’s bring the whisky, the fishing gear and the ashes. Leave Merle there. What do you think?” He asked and he went inside to gather his gear before I even responded.

I swallowed the last of my drink as I tried to wrap my brain around Daryl. One of the worst days of his life, and he remembers that I’ve wanted to go night fishing. He didn’t have to include that. We could have just walked back there and dumped the ashes. But Daryl, thinks of me instead of being buried in his own grief. 

I carried the rods and tackle box and Daryl carried Merle and the whiskey. The moon was full, so walking through the woods wasn’t too difficult. I stumbled a bit but Daryl moved gracefully like a fish through water.

“You ever feel guilty ‘bout Shane? Like it shoulda been you?” he asked out of the clear blue sky.

I nodded even though he couldn’t see me. “Yeah, we were both at the house where the perp was hiding out. Back-up was there and everything. Shane saved my ass more times than I could tell you. He asked me if I wanted front door or back. Gave me the option. It was like a flip of the coin. I said front and when Shane got around to the back a shotgun blast went right through the flimsy back door and he bled to death before the ambulance got there.”

“So what about that makes you think you deserved the gunshot?” Daryl asked.

“I said front,” I explained.

“That don’t even make no sense, Rick. Flip of the coin, like you said.”

“Why not me, though? After all the times he saved me.” I asked as the woods broke apart to reveal a wide, clear lake with a little wooden dock that looked like Merle and Daryl may have built it themselves.

“I get it, though. It’s like me with Merle. He relied on me to keep on him when he started using again and this time I was just so annoyed and fed up. Knew he probably had a lot on him. Knew he’d probably shoot up when I left for work. And I didn’t even say goodbye to him that day. You wanna know the last words I said to him?” Daryl asked.

I nodded now that we were standing still at the edge of the lake and he was looking to me for an answer.

“Don’t kill yourself with this shit. You done left me enough when we was kids,” he said as he unscrewed the bottle of whiskey and took a long slow guzzle, then handed it to me as I put down the rods and tackle box. 

“What he say back?” I asked as I took the bottle.

“Said he wasn’t goin’ nowhere,” Daryl said softly.

He took another slug of whiskey and handed it back, holding the urn in both hands. “Think I’m just gonna dump it in the water, I guess,” he said, looking to me for confirmation.

“It’s nice out here. I think it’s a good place,” I answered to give him the reassurance he needed. I watched as he figured out how to get the urn open and then poured it into the water lapping at the shore line without much fanfare.

He was quiet for a few moments, probably sifting through memories in his mind much like I did standing over Shane’s casket right before they lowered the lid. I was starting to feel a hell of a buzz from all the gulps of whiskey I’d been taking. I had a feeling that Daryl could probably drink me under the table if he wanted to. When he turned back to face me, his eyes were damp from tears. “We built that pier there to fish on. Let’s have at it.”

He left the empty urn by the side of lake and picked up the rod and tackle box and I followed him to the end of the pier. We got our rods ready. Put the half-empty bottle of scotch between us and sat quiet under the moonlight surrounded by nothing but the soft sounds of lapping water and evening crickets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to express my sympathies to those who have commented about lost loved ones. It really moves me to hear the stories you share. Hope fic works as a temporary get away from the grief.
> 
> Next chapter title- Out  
> (Time for the slow burn pay-off!)


	9. Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Stylepoints Rocks  
> 2\. Finally getting to some slow build pay off!

I was officially tipsy and half worried that I’d get a soft tug on the line and would literally just fall into the water from it. I decided it was best for me to stop taking nips at the bottle. Daryl, however, continued and he never slurred or showed any real sign of being overly intoxicated.

“I wonder if Merle would have liked me,” I said, not even realizing I was going to ask the question until it was already spoken.

Daryl looked at me with an awkward smirk. “No. He wouldn’t. No offense.”

“Oh right, because I’m a cop?” I asked.

“Yeah, that and…” he paused. “He just woulda had a problem with us hanging out together.”

I froze at the possibility of underlying meaning. Is Daryl seeing something more between us? Had Merle been a homophobe? Did Daryl _want_ something more? I had to take into account my wishful thinking and my level of intoxication. This was not the time to blurt anything out. Granted it’s been three months now and my sexuality hasn’t come up, and even though I’m not defined by my sexuality, it _is_ a part of me. And the closer I got with Daryl, the more I felt like I owed it to him to understand that. It didn’t have to change anything. Shane knew and it was never awkward. Of course, I never had a crush on Shane and I was really starting to feel myself being wrapped into Daryl Dixon’s orbit. The word crush was minimizing it anymore. 

Daryl took another slug of whiskey and handed me the bottle. I shook my head. “Better not. Already feeling it and I have to drive home later.” 

He laughed at me and it was almost more of a flirty giggle… but again- probably wishful thinking. I watched him laugh. When he smiled, his whole face lit up and his blue eyes shined even brighter. I loved bringing a smile to those lips.

“I like your smile,” I said quietly, maybe a touch of slur to my words and I looked back out to my fishing line in the calm lake water.

“You flirting with me, Rick?” he joked. I could tell by the levity in his voice and his chuckle that he was joking, but suddenly I was feeling more serious. And brazen. And I wanted to dip my toe in the water, so to speak. _Fucking whiskey_.

“Yeah,” I answered as I kept my eyes out on the lake and moved the rod a bit to try to entice any shy fish to chase after it. He was quiet far too long but I refused to face him. 

“Why?” he finally asked.

“I like you,” I answered. _Fucking whiskey_. I’d meant to let him know I was bisexual just so he’d know me better. I never… NEVER had intended on specifically confessing to this one-sided crush, this what was now apparently a more-than-crush. Now he would be uncomfortable around me. The bromance would be over, the friendship that I was starting to become really connected to would be gone and I’d lose Daryl just like Shane. Different but the same.

“Ain’t never got no compliments like that before.” And that was all he said for the next half hour. We quietly fished side by side. I had a few nibbles but they all got away. It wasn’t until we felt rain drops and saw the ripple of them on the water that we started wordlessly reeling in and packing up to go. 

As we walked through the woods getting damper and damper, the drizzle becoming steadier, he turned to me. “You can sleep in Merle’s room if you think you’re too drunk to drive.”

I smiled and thanked him, hoping we’d both forget my accidental flirtation by morning. Once the rods, tackle box and the empty urn were shoved in his small shed, we went inside. He took another guzzle of whiskey and handed it back to me. Was that an invitation to lower my inhibitions to see what else would come out of my mouth? Did he _like_ that I complimented him like that?

“I’m gonna change. Soaking wet, man. There’s Merle’s room. Take whatever you want from his dresser. Towels in that closet to dry off.” And then he disappeared into what must have been his room. I walked into Merle’s room and took some time looking around. All the time I’d been to his trailer, I never went past the living room and kitchen. There was an ashtray on Merle’s nightstand that looked like a twelve year old kid made it. Never heard Daryl talk much about any other siblings or nieces or nephews. I picked it up and turned it over. On the bottom in big childlike chicken scratch I read, _To my big brother Merle cause I love you. Daryl_

My knees got weak at the sweetness and I sat down on the bed before I fell onto it. This guy, Merle, wasn’t your average junkie. All kinds of people who had decent traits ended up falling into it. And Daryl probably missed and loved him way more than he’d been letting on. Sure he may have had some faults. Hell, who didn’t. But this guy loved his kid brother, and I was frankly shocked that he didn’t know better about how much heroin would do him in. I opened up a dresser drawer and found a pair of ratty but clean grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt. 

Once I was dried and changed I walked back out to the living room where Daryl was sitting on one of the recliners in an almost matching outfit. “He was bigger than you,” Daryl said as he noticed the oversized shirt.

“He has a hell of a nice looking ashtray back there,” I teased as Daryl took another swallow of whiskey and handed me the bottle. I sat on the nearby couch, figuring if I wasn’t driving it wouldn’t hurt to have another sip. 

“I don’t know why he always kept that piece of shit.”

“Probably because he loved you, man,” I suggested.

Daryl darted narrow eyes over at me and sat back in the chair. “He _loved_ me. But there was a lot about me he didn’t _like_.”

“What’s not to like?” I asked, bordering on flirtation again.

“Rick? How come you never talk about no girls or dates or exes or anything?” he asked completely turning the conversation on it’s heels. 

I felt the warmth of a blush creep up my neck. “I… I don’t know. Never came up?”

“Well, it’s coming up now,” he pushed.

“What do you want to know?”

“I dunno. What was the name of the last person you dated?”

“Lori,” I answered honestly. He seemed to deflate at my answer.

“Oh,” he said as he took another drink.

“The one before that was Paul,” I said quietly. There. There it was, out on the table. Everything I said at the lake would look more real to him now that he knows I’ve dated men before.

“Paula?” he asked.

“No. Just Paul. He was a good guy but we just didn’t click.”

Daryl looked at me blinking in confusion. “So… you date girls _and_ guys?”

I nodded. “I’m bisexual. Hope that doesn’t freak you out. Sometimes it’s hard to make friends and hard to… everything is just… not easy sometimes. Wasn’t trying to hide it from you or anything.”

There was a moment of silence between us as Asskicker leaped onto Daryl’s lap and I think actually growled at me. Daryl petted him absentmindedly and Asskicker eventually jumped off in sudden boredom, climbing onto the back of the couch to look out the window, which was apparently a better show than me making a complete ass of myself.

“Merle didn’t approve of the magazines I had under my bed when I was fourteen,” he answered taking a much longer swallow of the almost empty bottle.

I was stunned. Was he saying what I thought he was saying? 

“So’s I just never dated no one cause I don’t really like girls. Not comfortable with ‘em. Just not… attracted I guess.”

“I have a crush on you,” I confessed, the words falling out of my mouth all at once like each word was in a race to be said first.

“Why?” he asked.

“You’re sweet. Funny. You get me. You aren’t afraid to be yourself with me. You’re genuine, honest. You make me laugh and you have the most beautiful blue eyes I’ve ever seen in my life,” I answered softly.

“Ain’t you never seen yours?” he asked, in what was probably his first ever attempt at flirting. 

“I don’t want to ruin this friendship. I like having you in my life,” I said, familiar with how ‘becoming more’ with a friend often ended with ‘becoming nothing’.

He bit at his lip and sat back a little in the recliner. “I understand if you don't want me like that. Just a redneck. You could probably get dozens of guys… and apparently girls, too, if you like that. Them curls and those lips,” he said, clearly the liquid courage was loosening his tongue as well.

“No, no,” I said leaning up and putting a hand on his knee for emphasis. “I’m not saying that, Daryl. I’m saying I don’t want anything between us to be an awkward one-night stand. I want to keep seeing each other like we have been. And if I get to kiss you and… be with you, then all the better,” I smiled.

“Well,” he said slowly, leaning forward in his chair, “How about an awkward first kiss and then an awkward night sleeping in the same bed. No sex… just keeping things slow.”

I burst into a wide smile. “Were you ever planning on telling me you were gay?”

“Nope,” he said softly as he touched the hand I still had on his knee. He ran fingers over my knuckles like it was the first time he’d ever examined a human hand. 

“Why?”

“Didn’t want to scare you off. Like hanging out with you even if I don’t get no more out of it than lunches and ball games and getting Asskicker with yah or having someone with me when I let go of Merle’s ashes. Was you ever gonna tell me?”

My answer was pretty much the same so I didn’t feel like wasting my words on it. We were both clearly tipsy and perhaps this wasn’t the best time for a first kiss, but we were both raw and open and ready. I raked my fingers into his perfect mop of light brown hair and leaned in so our lips were only an inch apart. “You sure about this?”

He nodded, wordless.

“You never kissed nobody before, ever?” I asked softly.

He shook his head. I wanted to wrap him up and cuddle him forever. He literally hadn't allowed himself to be who he was out of respect for Merle’s opinions. And this was his first ever time being himself and he was giving that to me like a gift. I smelled the whiskey on his lips and sensed his nerves as his breath sped up. Asskicker was suddenly behind me pawing at my back like he was encouraging me to lean in. I carefully pressed my lips against Daryl’s and he instantly responded by parting them and putting a hand against my chest. Other than that, we barely moved. We just kissed softly to the sound of rain on the metal rooftop and a purring kitten, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and woods. And I never wanted to pull away from him. He tried to mimic the way my lips caressed his and I groaned happily at the way he kissed me to encourage him. Well, partly to encourage him and partly because I couldn’t help but moan at the soft, hesitant but eager kisses.

By the end of the long, slow, experimental kiss, his hands were twisted up in my curls and he had scooted practically off the recliner to be closer to me. When I backed away to give us each a chance to breathe he whispered with his eyes still screwed closed, “I like the way that feels.”

“Me, too.”

“Do I kiss okay?” he asked as he finally opened his eyes, and I made the unfortunate mistake of laughing. He was so fucking cute I could barely stand it.

He frowned at me. “Why you laughing? he asked, with an adorable pout. 

“Because you are just so damn cute and sweet. Yes, you kissed really, really good.” 

He bit at a nail in lieu of a response. “Do you really want to lay in my bed with me to sleep?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

“But I ain’t putting out or nothin’. Just thought it would feel nice to have you with me for comfort. Why do you still want to?”

“Because I want to feel you near me. So I’ll know I didn’t dream this. So I can wrap my arms around you and know you’re there. And so I can comfort you when you need it.”

“You ain’t gonna have regrets in the morning are yah?” he asked me as if I wasn’t just as worried about the same damn thing. 

“Nope. Hoping you won’t either.”

“No. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for a while now. And now that I have… I just want to keep kissing you more. For like more days and weeks and however long you’ll let me.”

I stood and reached for his hand to get him to his feet. And I kissed him again softly. “Any time you’d like,” I whispered . We walked back to his room and both of us crawled into his bed. He was clearly feeling awkward at having someone else even just there lying next to him so I reached my arm out and pulled him close so his head rested on my chest and I rubbed a hand up and down the strong arm that fell into place around my waist. 

“Is this the way people sleep?”

“Sometimes,” I answered.

“I like the way this feels,” he said as Asskicker jumped up on the bed and curled up between our tangled legs. And finally the whiskey and the sound of rain made us both fall fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope getting to this point was worth the wait! 
> 
> but there's still six more chapters left. Chapter Ten's title is: H.


	10. H.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stylepoints is awesome. You know sometimes she uses a dictionary to point out when she thinks I'm using a word wrong? Gives me the definition and everything.(and she's always right!)

The next day at work, I was worthless. I was hungover, for one. And for another all I could think about was Daryl nervously walking me to the door when I had to leave and the soft but passionate kiss we shared that said all the right things without words. It said “this is just the start.” And “I want so much more.” And “I’ve got absolutely no regrets.” 

At least we weren’t on patrol, it was an office day for us unless we got called out. I was at my desk working on some paperwork when Michonne came over. “You got a glow going on,” she teased pointing at me up and down.

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, you seem….”

“Shut up.”

“Are you?! Did you!? Was I right?!” she asked with that giant grin, dimples showing and everything.

“We just… we…”

“Okay,” she said, now leaning on my desk. “Clearly something’s going on. Did yah fuck him or kiss him or just find out he’s into dudes or what here?”

“We might be like… I don’t know… dating, I guess. I’m not sure. It just all happened last night and I don’t want to talk about it or I won’t be worth shit for concentrating today.”

She sat in her chair, keeping her eyes on me and smiling from ear to ear. “Oh, actually- he was the guy with the brother in the trailer park, am I remembering that right? Dixon?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, trying not to grin at the mere thought of him.

“That Dixon case came up on a list. Just saw it on Morgan’s desk, drug task force stuff. You might want to go look into that since it involves your NEW LOVER,” she said, shouting the last two words loud enough for some of the other cops in the precinct to hear. There was a brief flurry of applause and I just kept my head down, glaring over at Michonne with a bit of a smile. 

“Shut up,” I said again as I stood with my coffee cup and headed down the hall to Narcotics. I wasn’t sure why Merle would come up on anything after all this time so I _was_ kind of curious about why his name was floating across Morgan’s desk. 

“Hey,” I said as I walked over to him. He was staring blankly at the computer with his hands behind his head, as if the position helped him concentrate better.

“Hey, man,” he responded. “How’ve you been doing? Things working out okay with Michonne?” He sat up straight in his chair. 

“Yeah. She’s no Shane, but she’s good.”

“We all still miss him, brother,” Morgan said with a nod of understanding. 

“Hey, listen. Michonne said that Dixon case came back to you. Thought that was open and closed OD?” I asked.

“Dixon?”

“Yeah, Merle Dixon. Out on old Midnight Quarry Road? The trailer park?”

Morgan’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Oh yeah. It’s no big deal. We tested the smack from that case. Been testing pretty much every case since the beginning of June. Fentanyl. OD numbers were skyrocketing and we were trying to trace the bad shit back to a source.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked. I wasn’t really hip to the DEA lingo. 

“Oh, turns out a batch of H was cut with fentanyl, that’s a mad crazy opiate narcotic. Fifty times more powerful than morphine. Deadly. We got the source. Guy named Phillip selling out of Woodbury. Dixon’s on the list of names we’re pining to him.”

I cocked my head like I tend to when I’m still kind of confused. “So Merle didn’t really overdose? Like, say someone was worried it was a purposeful suicide-”

“Oh, no. That one? Dixon?” He picked up a folder on his desk and flipped through it. “Hardly had any in him. He wasn’t trying to die. He was basically killed by this asshole who was trying to out-deal some other asshole by making his batch of H give a better high.”

“And you got the guy? The Phillip guy?” 

“Yup. In holding right now. He’s gonna be going away for a long damn time. We’ve tied fifteen deaths to his batch.”

“Good job, Morgan,” I nodded. 

“Not just me. The whole Narcotics department brought him down. This is a big day for us, actually.”

“Kind of a big day for me, too,” I responded as I headed back to my desk. I told Michonne I needed to take the afternoon off and let Chief Monroe know I had a migraine. She’d been really understanding of any of my time off since Shane. I think she’s mostly relieved that I hadn’t quit. 

I jumped in my car and texted Daryl. _You leave for work yet?_

I got a quick reply back. _Not on shift til eleven, why?_

I didn’t waste time responding, just headed back to his place as fast as I could. There wasn’t really an urgency to my news. It could have waited. But any extra minutes of worry I could spare Daryl over his brother’s death made it important to me.

He opened the door as I was walking up the stairs. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his brows looking worried. “Regrets?”

“What? Oh no! No, Daryl. Jesus,” I answered as I pulled him towards me and kissed him. “I just… found out something at work and wanted to come tell you right away.”

He looked at me waiting for my explanation as Asskicker tried to untie my shoes. I bent down to pet his head in a quick greeting. 

“You still got it in your head that Merle might have killed himself?”

“That’s your urgent emergency?” Daryl asked. 

“I just found out that there was a major drug bust over in Woodbury. The shit was cut with some other shit… shit. I can’t remember all the words. I’m not DEA, y’know.”

“So what are you thinking, he might have just had a bad stash?”

“No. Not maybe. He _did_. The overdose rate has been out of control lately. Hell, Michonne and I had responded to so many, I should have noticed myself. They been testing all the H that comes through to build a case against this Phillip guy who made the stuff. Merle’s on the list. He was one of the fifteen confirmed cases that had that strain of heroin. The one Phillip was selling. It was lethal. The guy is criminally liable for fifteen deaths. Including Merle’s.”

Daryl backed up and sat down on a kitchen chair and Asskicker jumped up to his lap. 

“Friend of mine in Narcotics even had Merle’s file right there,” I continued. “He didn’t even have that much in his system. If it wasn’t a tainted batch he wouldn’t have died. My buddy Morgan insisted that there was no way Merle was trying to opt out.”

I watched as Daryl just kind of zoned out, absorbing the news, petting an unusually calm Asskicker. 

“Just didn’t want that weight on you any more,” I said as I sat down across from him.

“You gotta go back to work?” he asked.

“Took a PTO day.”

“I’m gonna call out at the garage, too. Should be okay. Haven’t taken a single day off since he died. Think I want to today.” He stood up and paced in the living room as he made his call. Asskicker sat in Daryl’s abandoned chair and we both watched Daryl pace back and forth. 

“I liked him first,” I said to the cat. “Don’t make me regret cat burglaring you.” 

I heard Daryl end the call and he went to the fridge and grabbed two beers. “Feel like sitting on that pier out by the lake a bit?” He didn’t say the words, “where I dumped Merle’s ashes” but I knew that was his purpose.

“Yeah,” I said grabbing my beer and holding the front door open for him. We walked through the woods and they looked much different this time. It was mid-morning. The sun was shining. It was much easier to walk without tripping over my own two feet… although I still managed to. But just once this time. 

When the woods opened to the lake, we stood by the edge where Daryl had emptied the ashes less than twenty-four hours ago. We were quiet a moment and I followed his lead when he finally walked out to the edge of the pier and sat down.

“It’s nice knowing he didn’t do it on purpose. I mean, he was still a moron for using it at all, but...“

“Told you he wouldn’t have done it,” I smiled, running a hand through his hair and feeling a bit awkward since it was still so new to be allowed to touch one another like that.

“I wish he wouldn’t have died,” Daryl said quietly and the shaky sound of oncoming tears made me reflexively scoot closer to him and put an arm around his waist. It was such a simple, innocent statement. One that everyone must think when someone dies. But the simplicity of him giving the thought words overwhelmed me with feelings for him.

“Me, too,” I whispered and that’s when he broke. All the months since Merle died, this man has been bottling up so much emotion. Never took a day off work. Left the ashes at the cemetery for almost three months before he could pick them up. Never properly cried except maybe those few moments before I arrived on the scene. Finally he had some sense of closure. Some peace. And his body shook with oncoming tears, the sound of his hushed sobs heartbreaking against the birds and rustle of tree leaves. 

“I miss him,” Daryl whimpered into the crook of my neck as I held him. I ran a hand up and down his back and stayed quiet. Just listened when he occasionally repeated “I miss him” between sobs and gasps for breath.

When his breathing finally calmed down and he’d stopped hiccuping sobs, I pulled away and tried to meet his eyes, let him know I was right there with him.

He wiped at his tear-streaked cheeks with the back of his hand. “Well, if I hadn’t already told you I was gay, you’d have probably guessed it now after all that pathetic sobbing,” he said with an attempt at laughter.

“Daryl, everyone cries. You think I didn’t cry after Shane? I cried when I was waiting for the ambulance. I cried when they made the DOA call. I cried with Karen when I made the arrangements at the funeral home. I cried on the phone with his parents. I cried at the _funeral_ , man. In front of _everybody_. And I wasn’t the only one crying. No one judged anyone else because when people you love die… you’re sad.”

He nodded in understanding and looked out at the water. “I wonder what he’d say about this,” he muttered, motioning between us. Been so long since he said what he did.”

“What exactly _did_ he say?” I asked, not sure if it was the right direction to take the conversation. I wanted to have happy memories right now about Merle and if this wasn’t going to be one…

He laughed a bit and shook his head. “Old man caught me with that magazine. Worst beating I’d ever had. Still got all kinds of scars on my back from him and the worst ones were from that night. Said he wasn’t raisin’ no homo’s. Said he’d beat the straight into me. Merle come in… which was weird actually because he hadn’t been home in weeks. I just heard the door open and Merle’s booming voice. ‘Get the hell off him, fucker!’ Merle took a swing at him and I ran my skinny fourteen-year-old ass back into my bedroom and slammed the door, listening to the fists flying. All cause of me.”

I opted to stay quiet as he took a few deep breaths at the memory. 

“Merle won that round. Knocked the old man out cold that night and come into my bedroom with the magazine in his hand. Said ‘You can’t have this shit.’ Knocked me upside the head with it. Not to hurt me but just to get my attention. Said ‘I don’t ever want to see anything like this in here again. Don’t want to hear nothing about this. You understand me?”

“You ever talk about it again with him?”

“Nope. Was the only time it ever came up.”

“He date a lot? Merle?” I asked and Daryl nodded. “Usually never kept one for more than a few months.”

“He ever try setting you up? Thirty-four. He think you should have been dating, too?”

“No. Just never came up.”

We were both quiet for a while. Just listening to the water and the sounds of squirrels and chipmunks scurrying through the woods behind us.

“You know what, Daryl?” I said, my hand still tight on his knee. “You ever think maybe he just didn’t want you to have that magazine or talk about any of that because he was trying to protect you from your shitty-ass old man? Seems to me if he was that against it he’d have been trying to ‘turn you straight’ himself. But he just left you be.”

When I looked over at him, his midnight blue eyes were so intense like he was absorbing every morsel of information I was giving him to think about. I looked back out over the water. “I think he would’ve liked me,” I said with confidence. “Cop or not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter Title: Date
> 
> (Which mean first official date since it seems like they've already been dating without realizing it)


	11. Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three cheers for Stylepoints!

It was Friday night and Daryl had sent me an adorable text asking me out on a date- bowling and dinner. I’d been thinking that I’d have to be the one making all the moves since he was so new to dating, but he’d surprised me. He had easily taken to initiating kisses on his own, scooting closer to me on the couch when we were watching TV and he even bought me a box of Whitman's Sampler Chocolates because he said it’s what people did in movies when they liked someone.

The Whitman’s Sampler is a great way to know if you are meant to be together. Do you both only like the caramel? Does no one like coconut? Are you gonna fight over the only chocolate covered cherry? Daryl and I fit together perfectly, him eating the coconut and dark chocolate that I’d rather throw away, me getting all the caramels that he thought were too chewy, and sharing the rest. 

Usually I always ended up at Daryl’s for some reason, but tonight he wanted to pick me up at my place. By the time I got out to his truck he’d gotten out and was holding the door open for me as I grinned ear to ear. “This something you saw in the movies, too?”

“Shut up, man. Ain’t never been on a date before. Tryin’ to do it right.”

I literally could not wipe the smile off my face. When he climbed back in, I took notice to what he was wearing- what had to be a brand new pair of jeans and a dark blue shirt I’d never seen him in, that made his eyes practically glow.

“You get them new jeans to try and show your ass off while you’re up there bowling?” I asked flirtatiously. 

“Well, it’s like a free show. Now I know why people like to take dates bowling,” he said as we turned towards the center of town. 

“I was totally checking your ass out last time. You know that, right?”

He looked over at me with a smirk. “I have a confession to make, officer. I was checking yours out, too.”

Once we were at the alley and he had beaten me two games in a row, I pouted at him for help. 

“Is it the wrist thing again? Am I standing in the wrong spot?” I asked.

He smiled and looked at the other lanes to make sure no one was really paying us much attention. “You need me to come up there and show yah?” he asked mischievously. 

I nodded and held the ball out for him to take, but he walked slowly up the lane and stood behind me, his front against my back, one hand on my hip and the other loosely over the bowling ball.

“Man, you’re not afraid of coming all the way out, are yah?” I asked with a blush.

“Spent too long in the closet, wanting and not having, looking and not getting. Ain’t wastin’ no more time like that. Life’s too short and It’s 2017. We ain’t gonna get stoned to death or nothin’” he said confidently. I liked the sound of confidence in him, especially when it had to do with his feelings for me. 

“Are you gonna show me how to throw this ball or are you just here to try and cop a feel?” I asked looking back at him.

“I’m here to try to feel a cop,” he teased. “then I’ll show you.” He leaned around and placed a quick peck on my lips then pulled my hand and the ball back to line up the throw. Before he could start giving me his tips about what to look at and how to aim and how to figure out whatever I was doing wrong with my wrist, a man in the lane next to us raised his voice.

“This ain’t a place for queers, man. There’s kids in here.”

I’m not new to dating men. I’ve had a few other times in my life where a comment from a stranger kinda ruined my night but I’m not one for confrontation. As much as I might have liked to take a swing, I was a cop and I couldn’t start anything like that. I just felt bad for Daryl, having to hear it so soon into our relationship. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout that Daryl. I think I can figu-” Before I could finish my sentence, Daryl had pulled away from me and walked down the lane to where the man and his date were sitting. I literally dropped the bowling ball at the sight of his masculinity and courage to stand up for himself instead of bow down. I never had a date do that before.

He rested his hands on the table, his shoulders looking broader than ever in that position and he looked back and forth between the couple. “Dwight, just let it go. If you don’t like it, we can just leave,” the woman with him said. 

“Oh you like it, Sherry? Two homos in the bowling alley practically-”

“Dwight is it?” Daryl finally asked.

“I ain’t trying to start trouble. Just don’t want my girl to have to see-”

“Maybe I don’t want to see the way you keep grabbin’ her ass everytime she bends down to get the ball but you hear me complaining’? No. I just ignore it cause YOU ain’t none of my business. Which also makes me none of YOUR business. I’m gonna finish bowling with my date and if I want to grab his ass or give him a peck on the lips that’s exactly what I’m gonna do. You don’t like it? There’s the door. I can help you out if you’d like.”

I just stood there watching with my jaw dropped. And even though Shane was a hard line cop that didn’t like bending the law. Even though I knew he wouldn’t have approved of the catnapping fiasco of several weeks ago,: I knew he’d be impressed with Daryl. He’d like him. He’d be happy for me. 

“Don’t mind him, honey,” a much older grey-haired woman said from the next lane over. “I think you and your young man are adorable.”

Daryl looked back down at Dwight. “You hear that Dwight? We’re adorable. So do you need help to your car or can we all just keep bowling?”

The skinny little weasel stood up and Daryl stood straight to show his very clear advantage in a fight. “Come on, Sherry. This guy's just looking for an excuse to get his hands on any dude in here.” 

He grabbed Sherry and stormed out the door with her, both still in their lime green and burnt orange alley rentals. It was then that I realized everyone had stopped bowling and all eyes were on Daryl. And I’ll be damned if it wasn’t like an old 80’s underdog movie. The older lady nearby started slow clapping and then suddenly the whole alley was clapping. 

Daryl gave a terse nod towards the applause and walked back to me looking at where the ball I dropped rolled and still sat. “We gonna finish this game or what?” 

After bowling we went to an Outback Steakhouse for dinner. 

“I feel like you just bowled worse after I showed you how to do it,” he laughed as he grabbed one of the rolls the waiter dropped off.

“Cause my legs were like jelly, all worked up over how sexy my man was, layin’ down the law in there! I couldn’t concentrate after that display of raw masculinity.” 

He blushed at the compliment and I decided right there that this man hadn't gotten enough compliments in his life and my mission was going to be to change that.

“You should probably be prepared that you will never beat me bowling,” he said, “if that’s all it takes to throw you off your game. Cause I got lots of similar tactics I could whip out.” Flirty Daryl was adorable. And he’d been helping me keep my mind off things for the most part. But some days Shane was harder to put in the back of my head than others.

“Shane’s birthday is Saturday,” I said, out of the clear blue sky. It had been on my mind. I knew that date like I knew December 25th and the 4th of July. 

Daryl always knew how to pivot from flirty to empathetic and he held onto my fingers on the table. “Sorry, man. That’ll be a tough day, I bet. You workin’?”

“It’s my day off, but I might just go in anyway. Do some paperwork and keep busy. Try to keep my mind off it.”

“I can keep your mind off-”

“You work that day,” I answered. I already knew his schedule by heart. “It’s okay. Really. I don’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

After our steaks arrived and we ordered a second round of Foster’s, I looked up at him, still not believing my luck. “Thanks for being so protective at the bowling alley. That was… it was just really fucking hot,” I said with a laugh. 

“I’ll have to remember that you like me all dominant and manly.”

“It’s not just that,” I laughed. “I love every damn thing about you, Daryl.”

It took a moment for me to realize that I had just used the word love. I was never one to use it so fast, and for some relationships, even ones that lasted months, I’d wouldn’t say it at all. But with Daryl, it was so natural for it to fall off my tongue. So easy to say...so I did. “I’m so in love with you, Daryl. You have no idea.”

He smiled at me, his warm gaze and his tanned skin like home to me now and we hadn’t even been completely intimate yet. But no matter how long it took or, hell if Daryl was ever going to be comfortable going further… I was completely head-over-heels in love with him.

“Ain’t never been in love before,” he said softly. “But if it means always wantin’ to see you. Wantin’ to touch you and talk to you. Wantin’ to take care of you and let you take care of me… if it’s butterflies in my stomach and a faster heartbeat when you look at me… then I’m in love with you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter:  
> Hunting


	12. Hunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stylepoints for the beta.
> 
> Sorry for the late post and not getting a chance to respond to comments yet. I'm on vacation with the famous MaroonCamaro so you can blame her! :-)

On Saturday morning I woke to an incessant knocking that reminded me in my post-dream haze of Woody the Woodpecker. When I finally shook myself awake I realized it was someone knocking at my door and it was almost pitch dark outside, nothing but a little starlight and a crescent moon.

I crawled out of my bed and tripped over my boots as I grabbed for my cell on the nightstand to check the time. I rubbed sleep out of my eyes and opened the door in nothing but a pair of pajama pants, my slept-on curls wildly out of control, and patterns along my cheek from sheet wrinkles in my pillow. It was Daryl, looking ridiculously wide awake, a crossbow over one shoulder and a duffle bag in the other. He was dressed in camo from head to toe and as always, he looked gorgeous in it. He looked gorgeous in anything. Those broad shoulders and his narrowed waistline, the carefree way he combs his hair with just fingers instead of an actual comb, the faint smile on those soft lips.

“Is it the apocalypse? What’s happening here?” I muttered with a grin.

“You said you wanted to learn how to hunt,” Daryl stated.

“At 4:30 in the morning?” I asked rubbing at the back of my head. 

“That’s when it starts, man. Deer ain’t gonna decide to change their habits just so you can get your beauty sleep,” he answered. “Although it looks like you got plenty of it anyway cause you’re beautiful,” he said with the same tone of voice that he was drill sergeanting me out of bed with. His still-awkward attempts at flirtation continued to warm my heart and I kinda hoped he would never get smooth at it. I liked the way he awkwardly complimented me.

He came in and pulled a tupperware container out of his bag and handed me a cup of coffee that I hadn’t noticed him holding. “Hurry up, eat this. Drink this and I got some of Merle’s Camo in the bag that you can change into. You can’t go hunting like this. The moon will reflect off that pale chest of yours and scare everything away,” he said. “Except for me. I like your chest. This is the first time I’ve seen it. Two thumbs up.”

I snorted a laugh as I shook the styrofoam cup in my hand. “Is this just half a cup?”

He nodded. “Got thirsty, man. Ain’t we allowed to drink from the same cup?” As I smiled and nodded he pointed to the container. “Hot breakfast, man. Eat ‘fore it gets cold.”

Even though part of me was still equating tupperware containers with Merle’s ashes, I went ahead and grabbed a fork and was pleased to see a hearty helping of scrambled eggs. After one bite, I asked with my mouth full “This is delicious! You get this from McDonalds?”

He looked offended. “No way, man. Made it myself. Farm fresh eggs from the Greene farm. Beth’s old man told me how to do ‘em scrambled.”

“I bet they were glad to see you taking them up on the offer for the eggs.”

He shrugged. “You know Beth thought we was a couple that day?”

I smiled. “I felt like we were already a couple that day.”

“Okay, quit being mushy. Eat. Change. And I’ll teach you how to track and maybe show you how to use this crossbow.”

We drove to a wooded area off Old King’s County road and Daryl taught me how to walk quietly through the woods. I clearly wasn’t a natural. And the flirty laughter between us probably didn’t help since the point was to be quiet. Eventually though we fell into a rhythm and it was just like a romantic walk in the woods. Daryl showed me deer tracks and squirrel tracks and how to follow them but we never ended up seeing anything worth trying to take a shot at. I could tell Daryl was a bit disappointed. I think he wanted to show off with that crossbow.

Once we decided to head back we didn’t have to be as quiet. 

“Sorry we couldn’t get nothin’,” he said as we walked side by side.

“‘S okay. I liked the romantic walk through the woods just fine.”

“You mean a romantic clomp through the woods,” he joked, motioning towards my boots.

“Hey, I got better,” I said with a pout.

He smiled at me and leaned against a tree, watching me take a few steps to catch up with him. I wasn't sure if he was just taking a break or if he was purposefully trying to look sexy and seductive. “If you want, I have a target at the house. Can still teach you how to use the crossbow.”

I walked up to him and leaned close, watching his eyelashes flutter and shut at the anticipation of a kiss. And without words I put my hands on his waist and kissed him. It was clearly what he wanted based on the moans and the way he instantly pressed his body against mine.

“I think I’ve always been waiting for you,” he murmured between clashing lips and eager tongues. And we stood there like teenagers for probably half an hour, kissing lips, cheeks, necks, nibbling earlobes, running hands up and down one another’s camo-clad bodies. 

“I think I like hunting,” I said resting our heads together and holding one another as we caught our breath. 

When we got to Daryl’s backyard he tried to teach me how to shoot the crossbow at a target he had set up. He showed me a few times and it was no wonder why his arms were so muscly and his shoulders so strong. I knew I’d never be able to make a shot like that, but I let him show me anyway, standing behind me with his hands gentle over mine making sure I was lined up right before he’d step back and let me take a shot.

The entire day almost seemed like being a teenager again. Playing in the woods, kissing sessions, learning archery in Daryl’s backyard, and planning to order a pizza for dinner. It wasn’t until Daryl was making the call for a large with pepperoni and green pepper that I noticed his calendar and remembered the day. 

I told Daryl that I just wanted to keep my mind off the fact that it was Shane’s birthday, and by getting the jump on me before I was barely awake, he managed to do it. When he hung up, he turned to me and could tell something changed.

“What’s the matter?” he asked like a worried momma hen. 

“Just realized what day it was. Thanks for keeping me busy.”

He didn’t use words to respond. Just stepped into my space and hugged me. No kissing or subtle grinds of his hips. Just a tight, warm hug. 

“You want to go visit his grave after dinner? I can go with you if you want, wait by the car. Like you said when we first met, better to have someone with you if you’re sad.”

“You make a really good boyfriend, Daryl,” I smiled. “That sounds good.”

“Boyfriend? Like official?”

“Less you didn’t wanna be,” I answered. 

“I wanna be.”

“You make a really good best friend, too. Kinda makes you my everything, I guess.”

“You talk mushy really good, Rick,” Daryl said. “Sorry I ain’t that good at it.”

“You’re perfect,” I whispered and hugged him again, my head on his shoulder and his hands rubbing my back.

After the pizza, Daryl grabbed his keys. “I’ll drive. Where’s he at.”

We stepped out onto the porch and the sun was just starting set. It was a nice evening, perfect weather. “Actually, it’s not far at all. Wanna walk?”

Daryl nodded and at the bottom of the steps he grabbed my hand. I grinned and looked over to him. “You’re not worried about anyone in the neighborhood seeing this?”

Daryl shrugged. “Don’t know any of them. Only people I’d have worried about are dead. And really… I’m not sure I would have worried so much over Merle after all. I do think he’d be happy that I’m not all alone in the world.”

We walked hand in hand across the tracks to the Angelwing Cemetery where Shane was buried. It was really only a ten minute walk, but every minute of Daryl’s hand in mine gave me comfort. We walked down the asphalt path to plot 708 and Daryl stood by a bench as I walked into the grass and knelt by Shane’s grave. The plot had some dying flowers on it and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out who left them. Guys from the precinct would have known well enough that even a dead Shane would've thought flowers were stupid. And his folks were back in Southern Florida where their retirement home was.

I picked up the fallen petals as I talked softly. It was a conversation only meant for me and him.

“I’m sorry, Shane. I’m sorry I haven’t been back here. I’m sorry it was you instead of me. I’m sorry I picked the front door.”

Daryl wasn’t making a peep back where I left him on the path out of earshot. The only noise was an owl in the distance and the distant murmur of traffic from out on the main road.

“I feel guilty sometimes that things are going well,” I said as I played with the petals in my hand. “I met someone. You’d have liked him. He hunts with a crossbow, takes me bowling. We click in a way I never have with anyone. I think he’s the one. It’s only been maybe four months but… this is it, Shane. And I’m sorry you weren’t ever able to have this with someone of your own because it’s… it’s amazing. I laughed to myself as I imagined Shane asking how we met.

“Oh, man, Shane,” I whispered, answering the unasked question. “You would NOT have approved.” I could almost hear Shane’s typical protest when he was accused of things- _’Who me?’_ before I continued. “I was first on the scene at his trailer after his brother OD’d. You wouldn’t have approved of a brother using heroin. You wouldn’t have approved of me dating someone who lived in a trailer. Or dating someone that I met on the job. But once you got to know him… you'd really be happy for me.”

I paused for a moment and looked back in the direction of the trailer park, glanced back at Daryl who was looking at the traffic in the opposite direction to give me as much privacy as he could. And then I looked back at the headstone. 

“You know what’s funny, Shane? The reason Michonne and I were first on the scene, is because I was here visiting your grave shortly after you died. Michonne was waiting for me right there where Daryl’s standing now. If I wasn’t here, I’d probably never have even shown up at his house that day. I’d have never met him.”

I was quiet for quite a while, then I sprinkled the flower petals back over his grave. “You pulling strings up there for me, brother?”

And the response was nothing more than an innocent owl asking “Whoo whoo?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter title: More   
> (aka- some stuff, some thangs)


	13. More

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So- just did my final read through on this chapter at a rest stop as I'm making the ten hour drive back home after a vacation and ended up sitting there and adding more to the chap. So any errors in the last scene here are all me. My girl Stylepoints didn't get to see it before I'm posting. 
> 
> Thanks to Style for beta'ing everything else though and hope I don't have any typos and shit in my last minute edits!
> 
> Also - sorry for posting so late today!

“You know what’s funny? The reason I was so close to your house that first day? The reason I was first on the scene? It was because Michonne had let me stop here to visit Shane. It’d only been a few days of me being back on the job. Not much going on that day on patrol so instead of being way over towards the interstate, I was here, practically next door, asking Shane what I was going to do without him.”

Daryl looked over curiously. “Weird,” he said. “Maybe we was fated and stuff?” he suggested in that innocent tone of voice. Not the husky one he uses in normal conversation or the gritty one he uses when he’s angry, but the soft one he uses when his lips are closest to my ear and we’re sharing words that are only meant for one another and no one else. 

“Maybe you’re my soul mate,” I answered with a grin.

I could see his blush even with the sun almost set and the night sky hovering over us. 

“Rick?”

“Yeah?”

“We ain’t done nothin’ more than kiss or lay in bed next to each other fully clothed for weeks.”

I didn’t respond. Gave him time to figure out how he wanted to word what he was getting at. “You said we was boyfriends now. And if we might be soul mates, too… maybe we can, do more tonight. Be together, you know what I mean?”

I squeezed his hand tight and kept my eyes on the ground as we walked. “Only if you want, Darlin’” 

“You don’t want to?” he asked, his innocent voice soft and pouty like a hurt child. 

“Oh, Daryl,” I said stopping and turning to him. “I want everything… anything that you’re willing to give me. But I don’t want to put pressure on you to go faster if you aren’t ready. I know this is your first relationship-”

“I _want_ to go faster. I want to do more,” he said putting his forehead against mine and letting his lips tickle a kiss against my cheek.”

When we got back to the trailer, Daryl kept dragging me by the hand to his bedroom, kicking off his shoes on the way, Asskicker on our heels until Daryl got to the bedroom door, picked him up and put him in the hall. “This is grown-up business, Asskicker. You go keep an eye out for burglars.” Then he shut the door. Next to his bed, in a room lit only by stars from the window, he unbuttoned his flannel shirt and let it fall off his shoulders. I followed his lead and pulled my own shirt off.

I stepped towards him, bare skin against bare skin and soft lips against soft lips and I ran my hands over his back as he mimicked the same touch with me. “Feels nice bein’ against your skin,” he whispered. “Feels warm.”

“Need you to tell me exactly what you are ready for and what you aren’t, okay, Daryl?” I said as I ran a trail of kisses along that collarbone and up to a broad, thick shoulder.

“Sex,” he whispered and it was such a seventh grade answer that I almost burst out laughing.

“Lots of different ways,” I said, as I groaned from him sucking a bruise into the crook of my neck.

“Which way do you usually do it?” Daryl asked backing away to look me in the eyes for my answer. 

“Done all kinds of ways, but maybe we should start slow. Just see what happens once we’re naked,” I said with a smile as I unbuttoned my pants. “Don’t want to overload you with too many new sensations all at once”

“K,” he mumbled and watched as I pulled off my boxers. He just looked at my cock, already hardening from all the anticipation. I didn’t push him to take his own pants off, didn’t push anything. I wanted to do this at his speed. I _needed_ to do this at his speed, to do it right. Because I knew before I said it at the cemetery to Shane, Daryl _was_ the one. He's the one I was always meant to love and I knew it like I knew the sun would rise each day and set each night.

He reached a hand out and ran fingers lightly up and down my length, exploring it, experimenting with the feel and watching it as it grew even harder from his touch. 

He swallowed and took his pants off and he looked down at his own cock, fully erect and modestly larger than mine. I ran my fingers along his and he groaned and fell back on the bed at the touch. “Feel good?” I whispered as I climbed over him, kissing him as our bodies pressed tight together, touching from lips to toes. He groaned against my lips sending shivers down my spine. We had plenty of times where we’d make out for hours, just kisses and hands slipping under shirts and he’d whimpered and moaned at the feel of me against him. But this time the groan was so needy and desperate, his hands mapping out the form of my body above him in a frenzy. 

I felt his hips rut up against me, searching for friction as more unintelligible groans fell from his lips. I was certain there wouldn’t be any worry over whether or not it would be better for Daryl to top or bottom, because by the writhing of his body and his moans and the way he was latching onto my shoulder with his teeth, I knew he was just as close as I was to spilling right then and there.

“You feel so fucking good, Daryl,” I whispered against his ear. “I love you so much. Feels so right being close to you like this.”

“Fuck, Rick,” he said in a long slow groan. He arched his back off the bed, his jaw slack with ecstasy, eyes squeezed shut and he whimpered through his orgasm, shaking uncontrollably below me after I felt him spend himself against my thigh, warm come dripping over my leg and onto the bed sheets. He shivered under me as I gave two more ruts against him and gasped out at my orgasm that warmed my stomach as I spent myself, eyes open and watching Daryl shuttering in post-orgasmic bliss below me.

I wiped back his sweat-damp hair and kissed his forehead. “That feel good?” I whispered.

He finally opened his eyes and his tremors stilled. “Holy shit. We shoulda been doing that weeks ago. Why didn’t we do this already?”

“You weren’t ready, yet,” I laughed.

“You shoulda convinced me I was!”

“I’m never going to push you, Daryl. Just not how I am.”

“How could you not want that all this time? That was amazing and we ain’t even...you know...“ We both sat up and he stared at the trails of come along my leg and stomach.

“I wanted to. I just knew how much better it would be if I waited for the right time.”

He ran a playful finger over the come that covered my stomach. “I want to try all the things with you, Rick,” he said.

“You can have whatever you want,” I whispered back.

“I don’t even hardly know what all there is to want!” he said excitedly. “Ain’t never had no one before. You’re the first on the scene, man.” 

I kissed him again feather-light on the lips and combed my fingers through his hair. “Yeah, guess I am.”

“If you wanna wash off, I only got the one shower in the hall,” he said. “I can go after you.”

I looked over my shoulder towards the bedroom door and back to Daryl. “Or you could come _with_ me,” I suggested in my best attempt at being seductive.

“Like… shower together?” he asked with that adorable vulnerability. 

“Sure. Why not?”

A grin crept over his face at the idea so I stood up and reached for his hand and he followed wordless to the bathroom.

“Obviously ain't never showered with nobody before. You sure there's enough room?” he asked as he turned on the faucet and put his hand under the water to test the temperature.

“We can make room.”

“So you gonna just like watch me wash in there under the shower head then you shower?” he asked.

“Nope. I'm gonna wash you and you’re gonna wash me.”

He pulled up the lever for the shower with a grin. “Okay.”

We both stepped in and I gently moved Daryl into the shower spray. “I'll do you first. That alright?” I asked.

“Okay,” he repeated, his voice dream-like and his pupils blown. I put my hands on either side of his head and gently coaxed him to lean back enough for the water to drench his hair. His eyes fluttered shut in the spray and his chest rose and fell faster as I ran my hands through his wet hair to make sure it was thoroughly soaked.

“Shampoo,” I said keeping my voice soft and gentle so he'd be at ease with me. As he straightened his neck and took a small step out of the spray zone I squeezed a dab of his all-in-one Shampoo/Conditioner in my hand.

He kept his dark eyes open as I gently scrubbed my fingers into his hair, his gaze lingering from my eyes to my lips and back again.

“You can kiss me if you want,” I said and it only took him a second to take me up on the offer, leaning in to press his wet lips to mine. I kept scrubbing the lather into his hair until he leaned away from my kiss. I could see the swirl of emotion and sensations in his dark eyes. It made me want to give him everything in the world.

I used my hands to nudge him back under the water to rinse his hair out and I could hear the soft moans of pleasure he was trying to keep quiet.

“Feel good?” I asked and he nodded as I stepped into his space to guide him all the way under the spray. I reached for the bar of Irish Spring on a shelf behind him and I kissed him again, more passionately, the shower spray like rain above us as our lips found purchase and tongues gently licked against one another. I pulled away and opened my eyes, lashes now heavy with the spray of water and I sudsed up a washcloth that had been hanging on the far wall.

He watched like he was studying for a test as I washed and rinsed his chest and arms. I moved slow so I could enjoy the contours of his body under the washcloth. I learned quickly that he had sensitive nipples when I spent a little extra time teasing them with my soapy fingers. He'd gasped at that touch and squeezed his eyes closed before I could meet his gaze.

“Can you turn around for your back, Darlin?” I asked.

“Am I allowed to call you Darlin, too?” He asked softly, a bit of tenseness suddenly in his shoulders.

“You can call me anything you want, Daryl. I'm yours,” I whispered.

“My back ain't the prettiest thing to look at, Darlin,” he whispered. “Don't want you not to like me no more cause of it,” he said, handing me his honesty like a gift. 

My heart felt like it was punched at his worry and I held him tight to me and kissed him again as water dripped down our faces. “Nothing will ever make me not want you, Daryl,” I whispered. “I know what happened. I just want to love you and take care of you and-”

“Them scars don't mean I can't take care of myself,” he said defensively.

“No, Darlin. They don't. When you love someone you take care of each other all the time no matter how strong you both are. I'm not going to push you into anything. You don't have to let me wash your back if you really don't want me to. But just know either way that I love you, I love your back, I love your lips, your hair, your left foot, your eyebrows, the inside of your thighs, the-”

“Okay, okay,” he said, his shoulders finally relaxing, and he turned in the spray so that his back was facing me. I can't tell you how bad it was, because all I saw was Daryl, my best friend, my new lover, my fate. 

I washed his back from neck to waist with the wash rag and left a few kisses along his shoulders in my wake. 

“You okay?” I whispered against his ear. 

“Yeah.”

I turned him back around so he could watch me kneel in front of him in the tub and start to wash his feet and calves and thighs, finally getting to his erect cock. I gently washed it with the soapy cloth and then looked up at him as I reached around to soap up his back end.

He was trembling in the steamy water above me and I knew he wanted my touch but didn't know how to ask for it. I stood and slowly turned him around in the shower to rinse off all the soap and when his back was to me again I pressed my body against his, one arm around his chest so my fingers could brush against a nipple and my other hand wrapped around his cock.

“Yes?” I asked and he nodded so hard he almost cracked my nose.

“Yes,” he croaked, his legs shaking in anticipation. I stroked him slow, ran a finger in circles around his nipple and kissed and nibbled on his wet earlobe.

It only took a matter of moments for the whimpers of his oncoming orgasm to echo in the shower and he was shooting out against the shower wall, water instantly washing the come away. 

“That was the best shower I ever had,” he finally gasped as he turned back to me, his eyes still bliss-filled and dreamy. “Your turn, Darlin,” he smiled, tugging the washcloth out of my hand and turning us so I was directly under the spray.

I watched him as he mimicked everything I did to him, fingers massaging shampoo into my hair, washing my body from head to toes, kissing me at various moments as the mood struck him, and turning me against him at the end, his nervous hand tight around my length. As he stroked me, I let my head fall back against his shoulder and neck, one hand steadying myself against the shower wall until I came just as fast as he did.

The hot water had started to grow tepid by the time we shut it off and pulled the curtain back. Asskicker was sitting on the bathroom rug switching his tail back and forth and he gave us a sharp “Meow!” before he scurried away as if to accuse us of terrible indecency for not shutting the bathroom door.

“Then you shouldn't have came in!” I yelled after him, as I grabbed two towels and we playfully dried each other off.

“Rick?” Daryl finally said, one the towels wrapped around his waist. “I think we should do that more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bear in mind- the shower scene was written on my cell during an hour long driving break at a rest stop. Hope it was okay!


	14. Coincidence?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stylepoints for the beta!

The day Shane was gunned down was the worst day of my life. I lost my best friend, my partner on the force, my brother, my family all in just a flash of a moment. A year later I would have never imagined   
what life would be like. 

I still missed Shane every day. Having him gone from this earth was more glaring than losing my own arm. I remembered worrying those first few weeks about how I could possibly live without him, that I didn’t know _if_ I could live without him. But I went back to work and got a call while I was talking to Shane at the cemetery. And I met Daryl.

Daryl hasn’t replaced Shane. You can’t replace a person with another person. That might work with a goldfish and a five-year-old, but not with real people. Daryl didn’t take anyone’s place, he found his own place, right by my side. After we’d been officially dating for three months and been friends for six, Daryl sold the mobile home. It was filled with too many memories of Merle and he wanted to start a new life with Merle still in his heart, but not so much in every corner of every room. That, and he said yes when I asked him to move in together. 

Since my condo didn’t allow pets, we had to look for a new home. A new place for both of us. Was it too soon to make moves like that with a new boyfriend? Probably, yes. But he was more than just a boyfriend. He was everything. He filled an empty spot for me that I didn’t even know was there. And now that he was filling that space, there was simply no way I could ever be without him.

We found a nice-sized three-bedroom with plenty of room for Asskicker to terrorize the place. It was a nice new neighborhood on the other side of Bernthal-Rooker Boulevard. The reason we chose the place wasn’t so much for Asskicker, but because there was a bedroom that was painted with pink polka dots and it made us start talking about adoption one day. It was a brief conversation, but I still think that’s what sold us- the thought of being a family together. 

I did keep one tradition from Shane- the annual Brave’s game. Daryl had loved it so much the year before that I got us both tickets again as a surprise. And it was exactly one year to the day of Shane’s death that we found ourselves under a cloudless sky, making the way to our seats at Turner Field. Daryl still had the excitement of a young kid seeing the ballpark for the first time and it was adorable. But this time we were a couple, so when he wasn't in awe of our surroundings, he was holding doors for me and keeping a hand protectively around my hip as we made our way through the crowds. We had our beers and our hot dogs and our roasted peanuts and we watched the game with the sun on our skin and smiles on our faces, our first official annual tradition. It was a moment in time I wanted to keep with me forever so I took out my cell phone, set it up to camera and turned to the two older gentlemen next to me. They both had grey hair, Brave’s hats and tshirts, and by the way they’d been talking throughout the game, my guess was they were both losing their hearing. They’d been loud during the whole first few innings but they were funny and their commentary reminded me of those two old guys in the balcony on the Muppet Show.

I’d rather it have been women. They always seem to be more gay-friendly, but I wanted a damn picture so I leaned over to the one next to me.

“Excuse me, would you mind taking a picture of us?” I asked. 

He took the cell phone and turned it around in his hands a few times as he nodded. “How do I do it? Is there a button or-”

“Christ, Merle. Ain’t your grandkids taught you how to use an iPhone yet,” the other man said. “Give me that, I’ll do it.”

Daryl and I flicked eyes at each other at the name. “I had a brother named, Merle,” Daryl said too quietly to be heard by anyone but me.

The other guy finally snapped a picture and Merle leaned over to look at it.

“Hahahah! You’re thumb’s in it, Shane. Looks like _your grandkids_ ain’t that bright after all!”

“Umm… you said your names was Merle and Shane?” Daryl asked a little louder as I just gaped at them with an open jaw.

“Yeah, We ain’t queers or nothing, just best friends since we was knee-high to a grasshopper,” Shane said.

“We ain’t homophobes neither, boys. So don’t worry,” Merle winked. “None a’ our business. Now smile or some shit so I can get a picture without moron’s thumbprints all over it.”

Daryl put his arm around me and we smiled as best we could under the eerie circumstances. We thanked the men and went back to enjoying the game.

“Hey, Rick?” Daryl asked another inning later, “Member when I asked you about fate and heaven and shit like that?”

“I have no idea what that was all about,” I answered, just as perplexed at the coincidence as he was. It was almost as if our Merle and Shane were somehow giving us their approval, letting us know they were happy for us.

“Probably just a crazy ass coincidence, huh?” he prodded.

“Yeah. It’s the south. Lots a guys named Merle. And Shane isn’t that uncommon either.”

The game went into overtime 2-2 and the Braves finally turned it into three for the win. We went home that night chatty about some of the good plays, a little more heated about the bad ones and still intrigued at the gentlemen next to us. When we got home, after being attacked by Asskicker, we sat on the couch and looked at the pictures on the phone. It had been too hard to see them in the glaring daylight. 

The first one was part ballfield, part Daryl’s left eye and Shane’s giant thumb. Asskicker jumped up on the back of the couch and rested his two front paws on Daryl's shoulder as I clicked over to the next shot.

The second one was a perfect picture of Daryl and I, arms around each other and smiling in the sunlight. There were two balls of light in the picture. Didn’t seem like a glare or anything explainable. Hadn't used the flash. It was just faded orbs of floating light, one by my chest and one by Daryl’s. We’d both watched a goofy Ghost Adventures show a few nights prior and made fun of it from beginning to end. It had been all about ghost orbs in pictures. 

“Let’s frame it,” Daryl suggested without saying anything about what we both knew we were seeing. He put my cell on the coffee table and bit at a nail. I could tell there was something he wanted to say, and like always, I waited patiently for him to come up with the words. He finally knelt in front of me and looked up at me with those loving, affectionate eyes of his.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he started. “Ain’t never imagined wanting to. And I wasn’t sure which one of us was supposed to do it and shit. But you ain’t done it yet. So I’m not sure if you don’t wanna or if you was hoping I would, or-”

“Yes,” I answered, grinning from ear to ear.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black and silver titanium wedding band and handed it to me, no box, no fanfare, just Daryl. And coincidentally, just Daryl was all I wanted.

I knelt down with him and kissed him softly and whispered in his ear as we embraced. “That was the most perfect proposal I ever could have imagined.”

“Didn’t even get you no flowers to go with it,” he said chastising himself.

“Daryl, you and I both know the flowers would have just ended up in the garbage disposal. Now tell me, how quickly can we get to the courthouse. I wanna be yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the comments. I haven't had a chance to respond to them all but I will in the next day or two.
> 
> Epilogue is up next. (Has anyone wondered who had put those flowers at Shane's grave? Any guesses?)


	15. Happily Ever After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Stylepoints, not just for this beta job but for every one she's done for myself and other Rickyl writers. You are can the best chickie!

We got married at the courthouse, just me and Daryl, that very week. Two months later we still talked here and there about the pink bedroom and what we thought our chances were for trying to adopt. It was getting easier for same sex couples to pull that off but it seemed like a lot of work and stress and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see Daryl get his hopes up if we started the process and it didn’t work out.

So imagine my surprise when I answered the doorbell one day while Daryl was at work at the garage and found a baby’s car seat on our front porch… with a baby in it. I ran down to the sidewalk and looked up and down the street. No cars, no pedestrians. 

“Hey!” I called out. “What’s going on!?” My voice echoed through the neighborhood. It was a Monday. I was off shift but everyone else in the free world was working. I went back up to the baby and brought her inside. (I assumed by all the pink and ruffles it was a girl.) 

“You okay, little one?” I asked, letting her play with my fingers as Asskicker got up on his hind legs and peered in. I unstrapped her, picked her up and she fussed a bit. By my limited experience with babies I had to guess she was about six months old.

“It’s okay sweetheart, we’ll find out what’s going on here. I riffled through the car seat. There was a well-loved blanky and a toy hooked onto the handle. And there was a note with big cursive writing. _Rick_

I did some quick math in my head and there was no way this was Lori. I’d used protection and she was on the pill. Plus I’d seen her at Shane’s funeral and again in a grocery store a few months after and she was skinny as ever both times.

“Let’s find out who you are, little one.” I bounced her on my knee as I opened the letter. Could have been a working girl I’d arrested that didn't want the hassle or a housewife that wouldn't leave an abusive husband but wanted to get her baby out of the situation. I'd seen quite a lot of both scenarios and I always try to be non-judgemental and empathetic. I could imagine that I may have left an impact on some of those women, and that they might perceive me as the personification of safety for an infant.

I unfolded the handwritten letter and skimmed down to the signature. Andrea. Shane’s Andrea. I sat on the couch with the baby tucked in my arm as I watched Asskicker run off with a pacifier. I read the letter out loud as the little one tugged at my beard and giggled.

_Rick,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to Shane’s funeral. We’d been broken up for several weeks at that point and I didn’t even know I was carrying his baby until after. He never knew. This is Judith Harrison-Walsh. But not anymore. I’ve run into some trouble and I need to give her up and I’ve always admired you, Rick. You were always the responsible one and to give her to you would be like giving her to a part of Shane. I'm not sure what he told you about us. I'm sure he claimed that he was the one cheating, but I was the one that cheated. I know I broke his heart and I’m truly sorry for that. Once the man I cheated with found out I was pregnant with Shane’s baby, he dumped me. Karma, right? I do think Shane would have made a good father. And I have no doubt that you will, too._

_I saw your marriage notice in the paper a few months ago and had my car serviced at Daryl’s garage to check him out. He washed his hands after he was done and played with Judith for a bit. She giggled louder than I’d ever heard her at his attention. He was smitten with her and he mentioned wanting a daughter of his own one day. I think she was meant to be yours. Yours and Daryl’s._

_Do not look for me. I’ve made some bad choices after Shane. I fell in love with a client. I know- textbook case for a criminal defense attorney, right? But Philip wasn’t trying to kill anyone. He had others working for him that were trying to cash in on the drugs and I truly believe Philip was framed. I know that Daryl’s brother was one of the victims. And I hope that won’t keep you from both loving Judith like she’s yours. I had a friend drop her off today. The news will break soon that Phillip has escaped during a transfer to Metro State Prison. We’ll be long gone. You remember me, Rick. You know I’m smart and cunning. We won’t be found. But just in case things end poorly for us, I wanted my daughter well taken care of. You don’t have to tell her about me. But please, tell her about Shane. I can see him in her dark eyes already._

_Do you ever wonder, Rick, if things are meant to be? Judith was a mistake. But I think there’s a reason she came to me. I hope you’ll keep her and treat her as your own. Raise her. Let her be whoever she wants to be. Maybe she’ll want to be a cop like you… and her daddy. Maybe she’ll want to be a mechanic like Daryl. I just hope to god she doesn’t become a cliche like me._

_Sincerely,  
Andrea Harrison, Esq._

_P.s.- Her favorite color is pink. She loves kittens and the song Frere Jacques before bedtime. And her favorite book is Goodnight Moon._

The rest of the pages in the envelope were the legal paperwork for Daryl and I to adopt Judith. Andrea had thought of everything. I put the letter down on the table, not noticing until that moment that I had tears running down my cheeks. “Hope you’ve been fed and diapered recently because I have a great room for you, painted pink just like you like… but I don’t have any diapers or bottles or… Jesus, I need to go shopping.”

I walked around the house bouncing her in my arms until she fell asleep and I put her down on a few thick blankets on the floor of the room that would become hers. I heard Daryl’s truck pull into the driveway and I bounced down the stairs to move the car seat out of the way so I could deliver the news a little less shockingly.

He walked in, covered in grease and motor oil, arms glistening with sweat. “You’re sexy when you’re filthy,” I said, as I leaned in to kiss him.

He narrowed his eyes at me. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean, what’s going on?”

He pointed at me up and down. “You got somethin’ making you antsy. I can tell by the way you’re bouncin’ and shit.”

“Nothin’ gets by you, Daryl.”

“Not when it comes to you. What's the matter?” he asked as Asskicker tried his best in loud Meows to spill the beans before I could.

“Honestly, I don't even know what to say.” I grabbed the letter from the coffee table where I left it and handed it to him as he put his lunch box on the kitchen counter. 

I watched him intently as he read. I wasn't sure what kind of response I expected. He had to be completely shocked.

“What the hell am I reading?” he asked cautiously. I waited until he finished and looked up at me, eyes glazed with emotion, and I waved for him to follow me upstairs, Asskicker in the lead as if he was the one who found the baby in the first place. 

I opened the door and we both walked in on a peaceful, sleeping baby girl.

“Holy fuck!” Daryl whispered. “I mean shit… I mean… we’re gonna have to learn to quit cursin’, man!” He knelt down next to her, his hands still too stained with work to touch her. “Her name’s Judith?” he asked, even though he knew that already from reading the letter.

“Yeah. Andrea had all the paperwork done in advance. All we have to do is sign a few things and she’s ours.”

“Judith was the name of my favorite teacher,” he said quietly. “She was the only one that thought there was more to Merle than the bravado and badassery he’d try to show off with. Only teacher that gave me my own chance without making assumptions about who I was and what I was going to be. Merle even said she was okay one time and that’s the nicest thing he’s _ever_ said about a teacher.”

Judith started to whimper in her sleep. “You wanna stay here with her while I run to the store? We’re gonna need diapers and God-knows-what-else,” I said as I moved to pick her up. 

“No way. I saw that car seat down there. Let me jump in the shower. We’ll go as a family. Let her pick some toys out herself,” he said as he stood and rushed down the hall to the master suite. 

“I don’t think she’s old enough to-”

“Rick, Don’t you remember what I told you about naming Asskicker? There’s just a way to know things. We’ll be able to tell what she likes.” He was in the shower before I could respond. When he came downstairs, me sitting with Judith on the couch, Asskicker trying to rub his head against her arm as she giggled and tried to pet him, Daryl reached down to hold his baby for the first time. 

“Hey, there little squirrel,” he coo’d, baby talking much like he had when he was picking out the cat. “I remember you. Do you remember me?”

She garbled some words and grabbed a hold of some of his hair. “Wanna know something ironic, little squirrel? Your new Papa’s big brother thought the French were a bunch of snootie assholes… um I mean… like just he didn’t like France. But for some reason, I vividly remember him singing to me when I was young and scared. So I know you’re favorite song.”

As He buckled her into the seat and put on his jacket, she watched him in awe as he sang to her in that low, husky, bashful voice.

“Frère Jacques  
Frère Jacques  
Dormez-vous?  
Dormez-vous?  
Sonnez les matines  
Sonnez les matines  
Ding, ding, dong  
Ding, ding, dong  
Frère Jacques  
Frère Jacques  
Dormez-vous?  
Dormez-vous?  
Sonnez les matines  
Sonnez les matines  
Ding, ding, dong  
Ding, ding, dong”

“You’re good at this, Darlin,” I whispered quietly, afraid to make to jaring a noise after such a beautiful scene. “I didn’t even know you spoke French!”

“Oh, I don’t. I don’t know what any of that shit means. Hopefully it’s not a monster story or somethin’. She don’t speak French neither though, so it’ll work.” He picked up the carrier and I grabbed the keys. 

“Rick? I think she wants her room decorated with a squirrel theme.”

“I’m never going to be able to say no to either one of you,” I said. “Squirrels it is.” As I shut the door behind me, I glanced at the enlarged picture we had from the ballgame hanging in the living room. Sometimes I’d speak to that picture like Shane and Merle were really with us in it. “You guys really know how to pull things together up there. Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and they lived happily ever after.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading!


End file.
